Dealing With A Dixon
by emilyllewellyn
Summary: A girl who ends up all by herself with only her bow and arrows is found by a rebellious redneck who doesn't think she can make it on her own. What adventures await the two? Guess you'll just have to read...
1. Chapter 1

"Come on, that's right…" I whisper quietly from a tree branch, waiting for the turkey to unknowing graze into the little clearing, and my line of aim. The bird pecks along at the bit of grain I trailed through the forest, innocently walking right onto my dinner plate. My arm begins to hurt from having my bow cocked for so long, but I dare not let it slip. Last time I dropped my arm while hunting, I missed shooting a deer and had to live off of mushrooms and roots for two weeks, and that sure as hell wasn't happening again.

_It just had to be 100+ degrees on the day I decide to go out and get more food, doesn't it?_ I think to myself, feeling the sweat trickle down the small of my back, causing me to shiver a bit. I continue waiting for the animal to just get a bit close so I can finally shoot it and get down off this god forsaken tree.

"Just a few more steps…"

Suddenly the turkey falls over onto its side, a crossbow bolt sticking out of the right side of its breast. I stare in shock at the animal for a few seconds before my sanity finally decides to come back. I glance over at my hand, just to make sure that it didn't slip and see the pointed edge of my arrow still glimmering in the sun.

_WHAT THE FUCK JUST HAPPENED?!_ I look down at the turkey again and see a man standing over MY dinner with a crossbow.

"HEY! THAT WAS MINE!" I yell

The man looks around for a bit, obviously confused about where the mysterious voice in the forest is calling from exactly. I shake my head and close my eyes, too pissed to be ready to deal with a moron.

"UP HERE."

He glances upwards and squints.

"What'cha doing up in the tree?"

"I was TRYING to get dinner, but some ASSHOLE decide to take my bird."

He smirks and points his crossbow up at me,

"Might wanna rethink the words you's using."

I raise my bow and aim right for his chest,

"And you might wanna rethink aiming that fucking crossbow at me. It'd be a shame to have to waste my arrow on your sorry ass."

"Why ya' little bit—" His words get cut short by a rustle in the bush near by. Out of nowhere a walker starts running towards the guy, and more importantly, my turkey. I quickly turn my bow and fire off an arrow, hitting the damned thing in the head, right between the eyeballs. It falls over, dead. I sling my bow onto my back and quickly scurry my way down the tree, dashing over to where the asshole and my bird were.

As I finally make my way over to the small clearing, I realize that the walker fell on top of the turkey. I feel my face getting all red and suddenly I can't see strait.

"FUCKING HELL!" I shout, pissed. Needing to vent my anger, I stride over to the walker and kick it, causing its head to detach and fly into a nearby tree.

"Well what do ya' know, looks like Lil' Miss got a mouth on her."

I spin around and find crossbow boy lounging against a tree, picking at his nails with a Bowie knife. Now that I'm closer I can see that this is no city boy, but your local hillybilly. He's in a sleeveless shirt and dirt-caked, cargo shorts, with shit stompers on. He's got a bit of scruff on him, and his hair looks like a nest of dead rats have invaded.

_HOW DARE HE…I'M GONNA…FUCKING…_

I pull my bow off my back and aim it right at his heart. I glare into his eyes, which are perfect, crystal clear blue, though my fury is so strong that that little fact gets pushed aside as I poke him in the chest with my arrow.

"Give. Me. One. Good. Reason. Not. To. Kill. You." I sputter out, my anger taking away my ability to actually remember to not pause between words.

The guy glances me up and down, shrugging his shoulders, as if he always has women threatening to kill him over food.

"I ain't a walker."

I glower for a second and lower my bow, my temper subsiding a small bit at his answer. I close my eyes and take a few deep breaths, willing myself to calm down even more before talking to this…ASSHOLE.

"Fair. Enough. But you still owe me a bird!"

He gives a chuckle, throwing his crossbow over his shoulder before strutting my way til we're standing nose to nose…well actually, he's was a good bit taller than me, considering I'm only five foot, so it was more like standing chest to nose.

"Darlin', I don't own you nothin'."

"You motherfucker, first you take my bird and then you refuse to compensate. You're one of the reasons why I'm by myself; there isn't anybody there to stab me in the back when the food goes."

He cocks an eyebrow at me.

"Ain't no way you's all by yourself. Nobody in this whole damn world can survive on their own, 'specially not now since them walkers is all around."

"I've been doing mighty fine all by myself for five months now, doesn't seem that bad."

"Well Lil' Miss, ya' got all th' way to five months, but now ya' coming with me, ya' hear?"

Then this lunatic grabs my wrists and starts pulling me west, going the opposite way of my tent, which is a few miles north of where I was hunting. My eyes get wide for a second before I start pulling and trashing around trying to get my wrists free.

"GET OFF OF ME YOU REDNECK HILLBILLY SON OF A BITCH! I SWEAR YOU'LL DIE IF YOU DON'T LET ME GO! I SAVED YOUR LIFE FOR CHRIST'S SAKE! IF IT WEREN'T FOR ME, YOU'D BE WALKER FOOD BY NOW!" I scream at him.

He just continues lugging me along, barely paying any attention. Finally, I remember that it's harder to carry someone when they let all of their weight hit you, so I go limp and sit on the ground, refusing to let any of my limbs move. Feeling my dead weight, he turns around and glowers at me.

"Lil' Miss, we got two ways of doin' this. The easy way, which is ya' gettin' up off that ground and walkin' yer ass like a normal person, or the hard way."

I glare upwards at him, refusing to break eye contact with the son of a bitch, daring him to try and make me move.

"I'm no Lil' Miss. and I'm certainly not walking." I growl, ready for a fight. I hear him give a sigh and roll his eyes.

"Why can't ya' women ever learn that's best to jus' go 'bout things the easy way?"

He hooks his crossbow to his belt loop, grabs me around the hips and tosses me over his shoulder.

"YOU MOTHERFUCKER, LET ME THE HELL DOWN! I'M NOT YOUR PIECE OF MEAT TO SLING AROUND AS YOU CHOOSE! I SAID PUT ME DOWN!"

"Cry n' scream all ya' want darlin', yer ass is goin' back t' camp with me."

I start pounding on his back, but it's to no anvil. The guy is twice my size and he's obviously a lot physically stronger than I am, and if you can't use your brawns, use your brains. I think this out for a second,

_Better to save my strength and just kill this bunch of rednecks he's taking me to than to waste it all trying to get out of an impossible situation._

I slump over his shoulder and bear the rest of the ride in silence, taking a little satisfaction in this guy's breathing picks up once we start heading over a hill. After what seems like ages of walking, or riding in my case, I finally hear other people talking to each other. Suddenly I see a campsite of people, all of them gathering around me.


	2. Chapter 2

"Daryl?! What the hell are you doing?!" I hear, what sounds to be, an old man say.

_DARYL? HIS NAME IS DARYL?! I literally have been picked up by the Beverly Hillbillies haven't I?_

Mister Asshole himself, who I guess is named Daryl, plops me down on my ass. Hard.

"OW! REALLY?!"

He just looks at me, as if to say,

_Would'nt a dropped ya' if ya' had just walked._

It's then that I notice that I'm surrounded not by burly rednecks, but families, moms, dads, kids, and I cock my head to the side, as if looking at the world's biggest mystery.

"Found this one romanin' round the west woods, says she's all by herself out here for five months. Don't believe her though, too plump to be all be herself hunting fer that much food."

_Well screw you too _I think looking down at my stomach…I hadn't gained weight…had I? NO, of course not! Been portioning my food for quite a while now, barley getting enough to function at times, let alone enough to gain weight. He really is just being a huge dickhole to me. The old man who was talking crouches in front of me and looks me up and down.

"Hi. The name's Dale. Nice to meet you."

I look over at him, astounded that this man had managed to keep his manners with him, even with the world going to shit. I give a small smile offer my hand out to him.

"Rose. Nice to meet you too Dale."

Dale gives me a grin and, grabs my hand, pulling me up off the ground. I dust myself off and stare down Daryl. He stares back, just waiting for me to run.

"Rose, good to know you."

"It's my pleasure Dale, it's a rare thing to see a man with manners since the walkers started appearing. And just so you know, DARYL, I'm not going to run, so quit getting your boxers in a knot and glaring at me like I'm a criminal. Besides, you're the one who shot MY DINNER."

"That turkey ain't had no owner, so it's fair game."

Suddenly a tall, muscular man with soft, brown eyes and a Winchester Model 70 hooked on his shoulder comes over and stands beside Dale. I look up at him, squinting into the sun.

"Well, I'm going to guess by your demeanor that you're the man in charge, right?"

"Yes ma'am, I'm Shane. We're not here to harm you in any way, as long as you don't try and kill us with that bow on your back."

"Right back at you, Mr. Rifle."

He gives a small grin, and then quickly erases it away.

"Mind if we ask you a few questions?"

"Not at all." I say, smiling innocently. Hey, when you've only got yourself and you have to deal with humans, playing the innocent, little girl is sometimes the only thing that keeps you alive and protected. Is it wrong? Maybe. But guess what? It works.

He walks me towards an RV, with Daryl, another redneck, a black man with no hair, and Dale in tow. We all lumber in and I sit down at the table, ready to get this fucking over with so I can get the hell out of here and back to my own camp.

Shane sits down across from me and starts firing off questions, left and right.

"So you're name's Rose? Got any verification for that?"

"Only my class ring that has my name inscribed on the side with my graduation year, 2008. Oh, and my locket. It was my mother's, has all three kids names on it." I say, pulling off my ring and opening the locket to show a picture of my little brother, my little sister, and I with our names on the back to match where we are sitting at in the picture. It seems like that's enough to satisfy Shane, who sits back after looking over my jewelry.

"And not to turn the tables, but I only know you and Dale and Mr. Redneck over there, mind if I get a few names myself?"

"This is T-Dogg," says Shane, pointing to the black man, " and Merle, Daryl's brother," gesturing to the other.

"Good to know, never heard of any of you before but it's nice to make your acquaintance."

"So you got family?"

"HAD a family."

"What happened?"

"Well family did pretty well for a few months. Dad was an avid hunter, so plenty of guns and knives at my house. Taught my sister and I to shoot, how to gut an animal, how to make a fire, bunch of survival stuff like that. Every day we'd switch turns going out hunting and fishing, had plenty of venison at first, but the local deer population dried up quick. Still, we were ok on food for a while. Started going after rabbits, turkeys, birds, and the occasional bear. We were out one day scouting out though and a hoard of walkers jumped us. My dad and sister ended up on one side of the hoard and I on the other. I wanted to give my family the chance of getting out, so I started screaming and yelling, pulling the crowd my way, riling them up to chase me. I knew I was good on stamina, I ran track in college. So made them catch my trail, forced a bunch of them to go after me. Circled around for a few hours, made them drop back one by one. Wheezing and exhausted, I made it to camp only to find my entire family was gone. Thought they had up and left, but the more I looked around, the more guns and ammo I found. It was when I found my mother's photo albums that I knew something had gone wrong. She never left those things anywhere. They were the first things packed every time we moved. I searched for hours around the woods, but I knew they had become walkers, or at least a walker's dinner. I mourned and wallowed for a week, barley eating, but I realized that life was going to continue going on and I had to survive. I gathered up as much gear as I could possibly carry on my frame and started trekking south. Made it to Georgia about 2 months ago, been living in these woods for about three weeks."

"What were you before all of this happened?"

"College student."

I hear a huff from the corner and turn to see Daryl rolling his eyes.

"Something you'd like to add?" I ask coolly.

"I'm callin' bullshit. No way in hell this girl was studyin' at some college. Had to be a scout or somethin', trackin' skills are too damn good for that to be true."

I stand up and stare Daryl strait in the eyes, at least as much as I can.

"I told you, my dad taught me. As crazy as it sounds, I'm a fast learner; you have to be in this world. Otherwise you die."

I sit down, glaring upwards and turn back towards Shane, who has his head down, waiting for me.

"Daryl, keep it shut for now, got it? How old are you?"

"Turned twenty-two last May. If I've been keeping track of the days right, I should be twenty-three in a few weeks time."

"Where's your camp?"

"Four miles north of here, found a little clearing with just enough room for my tent. And if you don't mind, I would like to go back. No offense, but I'm not a group kind of girl."

Shane sighs and looks over at the rest of them, before looking strait back at me.

"You've made it five months, that's impressive don't get me wrong, but…but you can't make it alone. We don't normally let others into our group, hell we NEVER have let anyone new into the group But you, you're a good hunter, a good tracker; you've got skills we need to live as a group."

I stare back at him, my eyes refusing to waver.

"Listen, I don't do well in groups, last time…last…last time I was in a group I lost everyone and almost everything." I say, tears welling in my eyes, "God dammit…no, listen, I appreciate the offer, but no, I'm sorry, I won't."

I see the rest of them shift uncomfortably before settling back down into silence, staring anywhere, but at me. Except, of course, for Daryl, whose eyes bore right through me when I glance at him. Shane draws in a long breath and lets it out slowly, causing me to turn my attention back at him.

"Well it's too dark now to head back to your camp, night will be here in a few hours time and there is too much danger of walkers getting to you. So how about you wait it out here and you can think about the offer if you'd like. In the morning, if you still want to leave, Daryl and Merle will escort you back to your tent. However, you decide to stay, and those two will go with you to gather your belongings and help you set up here…sound fair enough?"

I think it over for a few seconds before giving a slow nod.

"Ok, deal then. Now we don't have much room to spare, but since Daryl and Merle have a three man tent and only two people, they've got extra space, you can bunk there for the night."

"Ummm…are you serious?" I ask, not realizing that the words are actually leaving my mouth until they do, "OH MY LIVING GOD, that sounded so ungrateful; how dare I say something like that! Forgive me! It's just…HE SHOT MY BIRD! AND THEN PROCEEDED TO DRAG ME HERE AND DROP ME ON MY ASS!"

"Listin' Lil' Miss, I. DIDN'T. SHOOT. YER. DAMNED. BIRD. That turkey was just sittin' in the wide open, ain't no one's name on it, so I took my shot. And fer Christ's sake, ya' didn' HAVE to be dropped on yer ass, but someone wouldn't walk now, would she?"

I feel my temperature rising and take a few seconds to breathe in and out as calmly as I can.

"How. Would. You. Feel. If. Someone. Just. Decided. To. Drag. You. Off? No explanations, no discussion, just someone picked you up and decided to take you with them? I could have been being dragged off to some group rape party or torture chamber for all I knew." I explain through gritted teeth, "Now if you all don't mind, I'll be outside."

With that I get up off the seat and stomp my way outside, where I stumble into, and ultimately knocking over, a small boy.

"Oops, oh, I'm sorry, I didn't mean to run into you." I say, grabbing his hand and hoisting him up off the ground.

"It's alright, my name's Carl."

The kid says, grinning up at me and sticking out his hand. I give a laugh and shake his hand back.

"Rose."

"I know, I heard Dale talking to you…is it true you can track animals?"

"Yep, I can track just about anything out there, except maybe squirrels, those little buggers climb too many trees."

"That's so cool! I wish I could do stuff like that…"

Carl looks down at the ground and scuffs his feet for a few seconds before looking up at me with these big, doe eyes that just seem to swim with need. I stare down for a second and I swear I see the face of my little brother behind those eyes. I feel my own eyes misting up for a second before I take a breath and calm down. I crouch down and get eye level with him.

"How about I make you a deal, Carl? I stay an extra day or two, teach you how to track? It's not that hard to get the basics, after that it's just honing the skill."

Those big eyes are suddenly alight with life and a grin the size of the Grand Canyon splits the kids freckled face.

"Would you really?! That's awesome! Can I ask you something though?"

"Sure little man, what?"

"Why would you do that for me?"

"You remind me of my little brother, Curtis. I wish I had been given the chance to teach him how to track, so this is my…substitute…you're my substitute little brother Carl."

"Really? I've always wanted an older sibling. All of my friends had older brothers and sisters who would teach them to do cool things like how to skateboard or stuff like that, but I never did."

The kid looks up for a second and flings his arms around my neck, pulling me into a hug. I stay still for a moment, but eventually I wrap my arms around his back and pull him in for a proper bear hug. He pushes away and looks at me.

"Thanks."

"No problem." I say before glancing up and seeing Daryl standing in the doorway to the RV.

"Well, looks like I'm needed Carl, see you around?"

"Ok!"

I watch the little guy dash off in the direction of a small fire before I stand back up and turn towards Daryl.

"Come on, I'll show ya' the tent."


	3. Chapter 3

I give a curt nod and follow him in the opposite direction Carl ran. The two of us walk in silence, neither's pride willing to let them be the one to break the quiet. We finally find our way to a green, three-person tent set up on the edge of the camp. Daryl opens it up and I step inside, noticing that there is only two sleeping bags on the floor.

"Any extra bags?" I question.

"Not us, Dale might have sum extra blankets' in his RV though."

"You could 'lways cuddle up ta' me darlin' " says Merle as he walks into the tent as well.

"No thanks. I'd rather dig my own eyes out with a spoon." I say before trying to step out back out of the tent.

Before I get the chance to though, Daryl steps in front of me and stares me down, obviously wanting something.

"Yes?"

"As much as ya' don' like me, or anybody else fer that matter, your gonna have ta' suck it up. These people need people like ya', otherwise they're gonna die. And like I told ya' and Shane told ya', ain't nobody surviving by themselves out here."

"I've been doing just fine, thank you very much, and I don't need some hick telling me what I do and do not need to do. You mind your own business and I'll mind mine."

He frowns over at me, shaking his head.

"Fine, be a stubborn, ol' mule, you ain't gonna survive very long thinkin' like that."

"Whatever, Redneck."

I say, storming off towards the center of camp, ready to get away from Hillbilly McGee and his brother before I decide to stick an arrow strait up both their asses. Once I get back to the center of camp though, I've calmed enough to actually function.

After a few hours of getting to know everybody, and teaching them how to build up rocks around a campfire pit in order to have a sizable fire yet still remain concealed, I find a nice soft spot on the ground to sit at. I also teach them how to brew up a mean root and mushroom soup that has everyone begging for seconds, though that's not a privilege we have to spare tonight. After everyone's bellies are somewhat full, the mom's shuffle their kids off to bed and make their way back to the fire, which is when the questions about me start pouring in from all everywhere, starting with Lori, Carl's mom.

"So, Shane says you were a college student, what college were you at?"

"Just an itty bitty state college near my old high school. It was up in Maryland."

"Oh, what were you studying?"

"Psychology. I was planning on being a psychiatrist, thought it would be best to help mental health patients. Too many of them are treated like freaks by the sane, like we could just lock them up, stick them in strait jacks and it would be hunky dorey. Wanted to help make their lives better, be one of those people who was always willing to listen. That's what I did for a while when I was traveling around and found camps like this. Offered to counsel anyone that felt they needed it, and everybody always needed it."

The entire group grew silent for a second and that silence always came up whenever I mentioned that I had studied how people and their minds worked. Everyone thinks I'm a mind reader suddenly, and that their own bodies can betray all of their deepest secrets.

"Oh calm down all of you, I can't read your minds. I wasn't even that well versed in my body language studies. I just studied how and why some humans do the things they do, not how to perform some trick where everything you've ever done is spread out in front of me like a tarot card reading."

I watch, as everyone relaxes just a bit, still not trusting to say anything around me. I internally roll my eyes, but I'm use to it by now. Even with the world being thrown into chaos, there is still a stigma on talking to a therapist, as if claiming you have a mental illness is the worst thing that could ever happen.

"Oh, and the counseling I told you I offered the rest of the camps, I'm willing to offer here as well. Just tell me and I'll set time aside to help."

No one speaks for a second until a blonde named Andrea, who I think said she was a lawyer or law student at one point in time, perks up from across the circle, "Thank you, as crazy as it sounds, I'm sure we all could use someone to listen."

I give a smile, "Humans need to be relieved of mental and emotional baggage. Otherwise, you aren't as healthy as you could be. So, anybody want me to give them a counsel session?"

A few other hands go up, a woman named Carol, her daughter Sophia, Dale, Lori, Andrea, and Shane.

"I'll find a way to work around your plans, get you each in my tent, once I get it, or maybe the RV if Dale will let us, so we can talk in private. And though I haven't taken any oath, I keep the promise of doctor-patient privacy. Anything you tell me stays between solely me and you unless I deem it a danger to yourself, or the sake of others."

Before anyone else can ask about my counseling sessions, Dale jumps in the conversation from across the circle.

"So have you thought about staying here, with us?"

"Not had much time Dale, but I'll be around for a few days in order to give everyone a chance to come to me with their problems. So I guess Merle, Daryl, and I will be making hike to go gather up all my things from camp. Plus, I told Carl that I'd stay around; he wants to learn to track animals like I do. He reminds me so much of my little brother that I just couldn't say no, but of course I'll only do it with your permission." I say towards Lori, who looks terrified at the thought of letting her son out of her sight for more than a few seconds.

Shane rubs the scruff on his face for a moment before leaning in and staring at me.

"No one goes out alone in the woods, it's not safe. You can take Carl out and teach him to track, but only if you take Daryl with you."

"Daryl?" I ask, turning my head to look at him. He had lounged his way onto a set of logs that was behind the group, cleaning his crossbow and bolts.

"S'long as I don' have ta' hunt, I'll go out with ya'."

"Fine by me." I say indifferently, trying to keep my distance from Daryl. I, of all people, know that there is always a motive that is hidden behind people's actions. So there is an obvious reason as to WHY Daryl decided to bring me back to his camp, and from what little he's said to me, I'm assuming it's because I'm a valuable hunter and three good hunters instead of two means that there is less pressure on the two and more food can be brought back between the three of them. However, that doesn't make me less mad that he just drug me through the woods with no explanations or anything like some barbarian.

By that time I felt exhausted, and excused myself off to bed. Seeing as I only had on the cargo shorts and moss green tank top from earlier that day, I figured that I was going to end up sleeping in it as well. Dale had an extra pillow in the RV, but no spare blankets. Shane had an oversized hoodie from college though that was big enough for me to curl up into and be warm for the night. I head back to the tent and crawl inside. Daryl and Merle are already there, getting ready for bed. I notice that the sleeping bags are laid on opposite sides of the tent, with Merle's on the left and Daryl's on the right, I supposed to make sure that they didn't end up cuddling together one morning. Crazy as it sounds, the two just don't seem like the "brotherly love" type. The space at the front of the tent, near the door, is open though. I throw down my pillow, lean my bow and arrows up against the wall, and crash down to the floor, my back to the men. For thirty minutes I listen as the two shuffle around with their stuff, keeping my face turned away from them the entire time. My breathing must have turned steady enough to make them think I was sleeping though because soon the two are talking about me.

"Where'd ja' ya' say ya' found 'er?" asks Merle.

"Couple miles east of here, up a tree with that damn bow in her hands."

"Tree?"

"Guess she taught herself to climb too. Small lil' thing, probably ain't over a buck five, if that. Easy fer her to git up there."

I feel more than hear Merle and Daryl move closer to me, staring down at me. I snap my eyes shut and continue to breathe as calmly as I can. After a few seconds though, I hear someone walk away from me and realize that it's Daryl since he went to the sleeping bag near my head. Merle on the other hand, stays and I feel his eyes tracing my body.

"All that climbin' probably gave her great muscles; bet she's good in th' sack. What I would'nt give to 'ave that there tight, little cunt in my sleepin' bag ta'night."

I give an involuntary shudder, which shakes my whole body, as I think about having sex with someone like Merle. To think that he could be…touching me…and just…no.

"Looks like sh' could use sumthin' to lay next to, she's a shiverin' like one of them sissy dogs."

" Come on Merle, git ta' bed. We gotta git up early in the mornin' n' I don't wanna hear yer bitchin'"

The man stays there, just staring for a few seconds before making his way back to the other sleeping bag. I let out a silent breath of relief and soon enough, my consciousness starts to fade and I'm asleep.

_**I'm walking through the woods during a thunderstorm, mucking around, looking for a dry spot to lay my stuff down when I see a four people standing out in the clearing. I gingerly continue to get closer and there stands my family, Mom, Dad, Curtis, and Sophie, all just looking off with their backs to me.**_

"_**Mom? Dad?" I yell over the thunder and lightning, trying to get their attention. They don't seem to hear me so I continue to move towards them, but the closer I get to them, the more rain pounds down from the sky. The whole area is as black as night, and suddenly this thunderstorm has turned into a full blown tornado.**_

"_**CURTIS! SOPH!" I scream, desperate to get someone's attention, fighting the winds, rain, and hail to reach my family.**_

"_**HEY! YOU GUYS! WHAT THE HELL?! WHAT ARE YOU DOING." I say as I finally get to them. I reach my brother first and grab his shoulder.**_

"_**CURTIS, WHAT ARE—OH MY GOD!"**_

_**I spin my brother around only to discover his face and flesh rotting off with blood stains around his mouth.. My brother is a walker, my seven-year-old brother has become an undead. I stare in shock for moments, unable to process what I'm seeing. I run around to the direction my family was staring and find all of them are walkers. No one moves for a second, but then Curtis suddenly lunges for me, grabbing a piece of my arm and tearing away the flesh on it. I scream.**_

My eyes fly open as I feel the adrenaline pumping through my chest and the shriek still leaving my throat. Something is pinning me to the floor of the tent with a hand clamped over my mouth. I instantly think it's my brother, still trying to bite at me. I start to kick and claw at the beast, trying to free myself so I can run, but whatever it is has got a lot more strength than me. I thrash around before I finally hear the voice hoarsely whispering.

"WAKE UP!"

I stop for a second and the memories of the passing day hit me. This isn't my tent and I'm not alone. My eyes adjust to the darkness and I find Daryl over top of me, pining my arms to my side with his knees as he sits on top of my chest with his hand pulled over my mouth. I let my muscles relax and my breathing starts coming out in gasps as my body realizes that the danger of my dream was never real. The death squeeze on my arms is loosened and he moves off me, allowing me to sit up and wipe the layer of sweat that had sheened itself across my forehead. I take a few shaky breaths before the picture of my brother being a walker hits me. I feel the familiar pricking at my eyes and suddenly I can't control my tear ducts anymore.

"Shit…" I whisper and make a dash out the door of the tent.

I run out across the sea of tents and make my way to the far edge of the camp. I hear Daryl's footsteps right behind me.

_What the living fuck is he doing, can't he see I wanted to be alone?!_

Then it hits me that he thinks I'm trying to make a break for it. I stop running and just collapse onto my knees with tears streaming down my face. I see Daryl run past me before screeching to a halt and making his way back. I just sit there, frozen in the dark as I silently bawl my eyes out and try to erase all memories of my dream from my mind. After a good half hour I feel Daryl crouch down beside me.

"The kids will be up at the crack of dawn, always are. 'Less you want 'um to see ya' like this, I suggest we git back in the tent." He whispers.

I nod my head in agreement, but when I try to stand my legs collapse out from under me and I hit the ground. I try once more, only to fall down again. I hear Daryl sigh. The next thing I know he's picked me up off the ground and is carrying me bridal style back towards his tent. In the back of my mind, my inner feminist is screaming for him to put me down, but I tell her to shove off, and that I'm too tired to really care.

Before I realize what I'm doing, I have my arms linked around his neck. I practically feel the man go numb for a second and I freeze every muscle in my body. I slowly peel my arms away and look up at his face. He's staring right back down at me, but his expression is hard to read…I can't tell if he's upset or angry or just plain old shocked.

"S-sorry. I'm use to being physically affectionate and sometimes I forget that people don't like it. I'll stop." I say, slipping my arms back down past his head, settling them onto my stomach. He gives a silent nod. I continue to look up at him for a second and try to read his expression once again, but I've got nothing. I lower my head and listen to the sounds of the forest at night. We make our way back to the tent and Daryl lays me on my pillow. He then goes to move out of the tent, I guess to leave me alone to go back to sleep. I stare at him as he leaves the door, and suddenly my mouth is no longer attached to my brain.

"Daryl?"

He stops and brings his head back into the tent and I just stare for a second before saying,

"Thanks."

"S'nothin'" he grunts before leaving.

I lay back down and somehow, by a miracle or just pure exhaustion; I fall back off to a dreamless sleep.


	4. Chapter 4

I wake to the sounds of a far off gun shooting. I immediately rip Shane's sweatshirt off of me and jump into "kill mode". I run out the tent, bow in hand and arrows on back; ready to shoot anything that resembles a walker. It's about mid-morning as I slip out of the tent, arrow drawn. I silently make my way through the camp and find Carol, Jim, Andrea, Amy, Jacqui, Lori, Carl, Sophia, Dale, and most of the Morales family up by the RV, looking dazed and confused. I make my way up to them and silently ask Dale if he knows why the gun was shot.

He comes over and whispers, "Some of the men are out hunting this morning. Went west, Daryl said he thought he had found four nests of rabbits, but they hardly ever use guns for game, it's mostly Daryl's crossbow. Walkers are the only things we use for guns, and even that's a last resort."

"Get the kids and women in the RV, lock them in with these." I say, slipping him two knives and small handgun that I have in my pockets, "Gun to Lori, knives to Amy and Andrea I'm going to go around and see what's happening. You and Jim cover me from the roof, got it?"

"Now Ros—"

"Got. It."

I hear him sigh before walking away, getting everyone into the RV. I look up at the sun, find which way west is, and start heading that way as quickly and quietly as I can. Pretty soon I find the trail the men left and follow it. As I'm making my way through the forest, I hear more and more gunshots going off, and I start to pick up my pace.

Three miles later, and I finally find them, stuck in the center of a circle of fifteen to twenty walkers, but I can't see much, only Daryl firing off his crossbow.

_Fuck, now I've got to save them, cause he sure as hell doesn't have many bolts left to kill all of these geeks._

Knowing I'm more useful in a tree than I am on the ground, I sling my bow over my shoulder and hastily go up an oak to the highest I part I can. I make my way out on a strong tree branch until I have a fair view into the clearing. Everyone in the group has their back to one another, each one armed with some kind of weapon, Morales with a baseball bat, Shane with a Mossberg 500, Glenn with a Bowie knife, Merle with a Remington 870, T-Dogg with a machete, and of course Daryl with his crossbow, and they're all taking out as many walkers as they physically can.

I hear Glenn, the Korean guy, practically whimpering from where I'm at.

"Glenn. You have to calm down, otherwise those things are going to…to bite you." Yells Shane over the gunfire. However, Glenn seems oblivious to Shane's advice, too scared or focused on the fact that walkers surround him.

"Guys…guys….GUYS!" screams Glenn as one of the ugly sons of bitches latches onto his arm. Glenn trashes around, pulling and yelling, until finally sinking the knife into its eye socket. However, he must not have went deep enough because the thing kept clawing at him.

"Com' on chinaman, fuckin' kill it, don't just make it stop movin'." says Daryl before shooting the thing with his crossbow.

I grab my bow off my shoulders and pull an arrow out of the holder on my back. I draw the arrow back as quietly as I can, deciding where to start. Just as the thought enters my mind, I see a walker running at Daryl's back as he pulls one of his bolts from the head from the geek at his feet. I release my arrow and it hits the dammed thing right where I want it, through the temple. The men stop for a split second, unsure of where the hell the arrow came from. Daryl looks the arrow sticking out and he quickly scans up the trees until he finds me. I give a nod and start killing off as many of the dammed monsters as I can.

"Rose." Daryl says, aiming and killing another two walkers.

Soon enough the entire herd is dead, and I skillfully swing myself down off the tree and head out to the men.

"Glenn, you good? No scratches or anything?" I ask as I cross over the sea of undead and make my way to him.

"I'm fine…" he says as I examine his arm carefully.

"Anyone else bit, scratched, or hurt?"

"No. We're…we're good," pants Shane.

"What the hell happened?"

"We were tracking a deer when a walker jumped on Morales from nowhere. Merle had to fire off a shot, drew the whole damn flock towards us. No choice but to stand and fight, otherwise we risked bringing them all back to camp."

"As long as everyone is still alive and human, no harm done. We can always find more bullets, and if not more bullets, more guns." I say, looking around at each of them before walking around and pulling my arrows out of the heads of 7 walkers, sticking them back in my holder. Once I've finished recollecting my ammo, I turn around and lead them all back to camp.

Once we get back, Dale lets everyone out of the RV and Morales finds Ed, Carol's abusive husband, sleeping in his tent like a worthless bucket of lard. They all gather around the makeshift fire pit to hear what happened from Shane.

"First off, everyone is ok. We were jumped by a group of walkers and had to start firing. End up drawing a whole group of them towards us. That's when Rose showed up and started killing them left and right with her bow from a tree. I have to say, don't know if I've ever seen a woman handle a weapon like that…it's impressive to say the least. Made me think it's best we get all the women trained in weaponry. I'm sure it'd make everyone feel a little safer. And Rose, I just wanted to say thank you. Not many people who are complete strangers would have done what you did."

I shrug my shoulders and brush off the compliment, not really wanting any attention.

"If I'm ever in that situation, I would hope someone would do that same for me. It's not just what I have or you have or who is more deserving to live. The human race is at war with the undead, and it's us versus them. You either choose to fight, or you choose to become one of them. Period."

Shane walks over and claps me on the shoulder, giving me a smile. I nod back and then start to speak again,

"Now, not to draw attention away from the subject at hand, but I would like to go get my stuff. As grateful as I am for having a pillow and a sweatshirt to sleep with last night, probably the worst sleep I've had for a while."

"Of course Rose, and you've got a long trip up and back. Give Daryl and Merle a few to pack their gear."

I nod again and turn away from Shane, ready to walk over towards the woods, but I find Andrea, Amy, and Lori all behind me, hands stretched out with my weapons. I grab the knives and gun, turning to go when I feel a hand gently pull my shoulder back around.

"Thank you, most of the time the men don't really trust us with gear like that. They run off to fight and leave us here, weaponless. You though, you left us with a way to fight if we needed it…Why?" Lori asks, genuine curiosity spreading across her face.

"Because the three of you are probably three of the smartest people here…because you all are the strong, both mentally and physically…because you all deserve a fighting chance…because I think you can handle it."

"I don't thi-"

"Listen to me Lori, I wasn't a trained psychologist, and I'll never claim to be one. But I've been reading people since I was a girl, and trust me, I know whom to depend on. So don't try and tell me you don't think I'm right, because I am."

Amy looks like she's about to protest, but she slowly closes her mouth, rethinking whatever argument came to mind.

The three just look at me for a second, as if questioning if I'm sane or not, before walking the other way, Andrea and Amy headed towards the quarry and Lori back to the RV. I spin around and find Merle and Daryl waiting at the north side of the woods.

"Come on! Me and Daryl liked to be back 'fore dinner." Says Merle.

I shoot them am ammoyed look, but jog my way over and all of us start heading towards my camp. The trek is mostly silent, except for Merle, constantly trying to impress me with his long history of hunting trophies, which didn't include anything bigger than a ten-point buck when he was sixteen. I keep my patience, entertaining him with half-ass answers. Suddenly I look down and see the markings of a deer that's recently passed by. I stop for a second and listen, but I can't hear a thing over Merle's yammering. I grab his forearm and stop him from moving.

"What the fuck do ya' thi—"

"Shh…" I say quietly.

"Ain't no girly girl gonna tel—"

"Would you fucking shut up for a second." I angrily whisper, eyes ablaze with anger as they collide upwards with his. Merle stands there, shocked for a few seconds. Then his face turns ten shades redder, but he stays quiet long enough. I hear the faint snap of a twig, and immediately go up the nearest tree.

"What 'n the name of living fuck is she a'doin'?" I hear Merle say as I make my way upward. I get to the top and look out, seeing a doe moving along about a hundred yards from where we stand. I climb down a few branches, until I can find one that'll hold my weight and slowly make my way out to the edge. I draw my bow and wait for it to move just a little so I can get a clean shot. Finally, after a few minutes the old girl moves and I release one of my arrows, hitting her right through the heart. She runs for a few hundred yards, before slowing down, and then collapsing. I make my way back down the tree and start heading off in the direction the doe ran, trying to find the blood trail. After a few minutes of searching, I find it and follow it right up to her. I look her over and find her still breathing, gasping for air. Those poor eyes stare up at me, questioning why in the world I would ever hurt her, why this happened.

"It's alright…I'll make it quick. It'll be done before you know it." I whisper, leaning down as I try to soothe her. I pet her head softly, trying to make this as comforting as possible. "If I didn't have to, I wouldn't, I promise you that." I say, rubbing her gently, all the way down to her throat.

I pull one of knives and quickly slash across the white and brown fur, making sure to sever strait through, killing her swiftly. I clean my knife on my shirt, pull my arrow out of her chest, and stand up, turning to find Daryl and Merle right behind me. Merle still looks mad as hell, but not quite as pissed as I left him, and Daryl looks like a deer is the least impressive thing I could have found.

"Well, lookie here, lil' thin' can hunt. Told ya' she's a good 'un to have 'round. Always said that a woman who could hunt was the sexiest thin' 'n the world, ain't it Daryl?"

He gives a nod and I roll my eyes, as I turn, certainly uninterested in Merle's attempts to compliment me. The man is old enough to be my father, and there is literally no chemistry between the two of us. But whatever, I've dealt with idiots like him before, and they'll eventually stop…or I end up cutting their balls off in their sleep. I stand up and wipe my forehead with my arm, looking up at the sun.

"We're about half a mile away from my camp, but we definitely don't have enough sunlight to gut the deer, pack it up, go to camp, get everything loaded, and get back before night fall. So Merle, you stay here and gut the deer sinc-"

I can't even finish my sentence though, before Merle has wrapped his hand around my neck, slamming me up against a tree.

"WHAT MAKES YOU, THINK YA' CAN TELL ME 'ROUND, WOMAN! I AIN'T NO SISSY ASS MOTHER FUCKIN' NIGGER WHO JUS' TAKES ORDERS. YA' LISTEN 'ERE, IMMA MAKE THE 'SCISONS 'ROUND 'ERE FER ALL THREE OF US, AND AIN'T A GOD DAMN THIN' YOU GONNA DO 'BOUT IT, YA' HEAR!" He yells at me. Before he can keep screaming though, I pull a knife out of the back of my shorts and hold it up against his throat.

"Y-you…let…g-go…or…I…cut." I manage to say; my head starting to feel all dizzy and full as my brain starts screaming for more oxygen.

He looks at me for a second before a wave of raspy laughter comes seeping out of his mouth.

"From the looks of it, you ain't got much life left 'n ya', does she lil' brother?"

I almost forgot that Daryl even existed, let alone that he was barely standing ten feet away from us. He walks over and stands behind Merle, peering at me from his shoulder.

"Better let 'er go Merle, we ain't got a clue where the fuck her camp is, and I don't feel like draggin' some body back."

Merle stares at me for a long second before letting go. I drop to the ground, coughing and wheezing, thankful that I can finally fill my lungs with sweet air. I stay there for a few minutes until I can breathe again, turning towards the two brothers, my rage barely able to be contained.

"What…what the actual fuck? I was just…just going to say that since you were the most qualified, Merle, you know…since you were telling me all those big game stories, that you…you could cut the deer up the fastest, while Daryl and I made it up to my camp and packed everything. I wasn't…wasn't ordering, you flying fucktard." I pant, still trying to control my breathing.

Merle stares me down for a full minute strait before driving his hunting knife strait into the deer, gutting the beast with no mercy. Thankful that he has something else to take his rage out on, I pull myself up off the ground and start heading north with Daryl for another half mile. With Merle gone, the silence that settles between us is long, yet understood. It's almost comfortable, each of us more entertained by our own thoughts than by each other. Personally, I keep trying to find a way to kill Merle, that son of a bitch, without anyone finding, plus I need to make him realize that sex is never, EVER going to fucking happen between us. Even if we were the only two left in the whole damn world, I would never consider even the possibility of having a kid who would have to bear the same genes as Merle Dixon.


	5. Chapter 5

Finally, we make it to my camp, but we find a couple of walkers mindlessly scuffing around near it, digging at my locked case of meat. They don't notice us until we're right on them, and I quickly take one out while Daryl takes care of the other.

I do a swift check around and find everything intact, including my eight-person tent. Daryl eyes the tent and then me, as if questioning why I have such a massive tent for one person.

"I know, I know, big tent for a little woman, but at least I can keep everything close at hand and not have to worry about my ammo being outside if a walker comes by. So I'll get the shit out of the tent while you…"

I pause for a second, knowing better than to try and make the same mistake twice in the ten minutes. Daryl just looks at me, eyes wide with waiting when he finally figures out what I'm thinking.

"S'alright, I ain't Merle. Always has a problem with anyone tellin' him ta' do anythin'. Just tell me so I can git this shit done."

I hesitate for a few seconds longer before saying, "Okay. I'll get my stuff out of the tent while you can go over there and pack up all the food I have. It should be…four bags of mushrooms and roots, four bags of turkey, deer, and rabbit meat, eight cans of vegetables, a jar of preserved fruit, twelve cans of ravioli, thirty-six bottles of water, two large pots, and a fork." I say, listing off my memorized stock, as Daryl stares at me as if I'm a freak.

"And don't give me that look, when you work by yourself, you have to ensure that your food is all accounted for, otherwise you could end up starving to death. Anyway, once everything is out of the tent, I'll pack up my backpack and you can take down the tent and stick it in the bag tied to the side. Fair enough?"

Daryl simply nods as I go in the tent and wrap up my sleeping bag and pillow as quickly as possible. Then I grab my mom's photo album and the clothes bag I have sitting in the corner. Next is my medical supply, which has everything from oxycodone, morphine, ibuprofen, Tylenol, Alive, alcohol, hydrogen peroxide, bandages, stitches and a needle, epinephrine, gauze, medical tape, scissors, and even an IV bag plus a port for it. Mom was a nurse at a hospital and when things went to shit, she got into the medical supply closet and pharmacy at the hospital and grabbed as much as she could fit into her purse and ran home.

The last thing to pack is my weapons, which are somewhat strung throughout my tent. I gather them, counting along the way exactly how much I have: seven rifles, four shotguns, six pistols, eight revolvers, an M4A1 assault rifle, thirty-seven different kinds of knives, four machetes, an axe, a tire iron, flares, handcuffs, fifteen spare arrows, a CB radio, a hatchet, and finally over nine hundred shells for my guns. Impressive, isn't it? Now I know what you're thinking, how unrealistic is it for one girl to have that much? I told you before, my dad was a passionate huntsman, and on top of that a correctional officer and gun collector. Plus I nicked a few of the things from a hardware store and a broken down vehicle that I encountered on the side of the road back when I was in Virginia.

I throw all of it into a large duffle bag and make my way out of the tent. Daryl's just finishing attaching the food to his backpack when I get out and while I load all of my things onto my hiking pack, he takes down the tent and stores it on his bag. Once we're all packed and read, I destroy the make shift fire pit and we start heading back.

We meet Merle along the way, who got the deer all strung up and on a tarp to drag back. Not wanting to waste a damn second, since one of them is a complete asshole while the other is obviously fucking insane, I start making my way south. The three of us make the march back in silence, the extra weight of the supplies taking away all of our ability to speak.

We reach the camp just before sundown and Shane comes out to meet us in front of the RV. Merle, Daryl and I lower our packs, relieved that the heavy burden has been lifted from our shoulders. We each take a seat, me on the ground, and those two against the RV, panting and sweating like whores in the front pew of church. Shane glances around and notices my gun bag, reaching for it with gleaming eyes.

"Oh hell no." I say, throwing my arm protectively over the small arsenal, "These are mine, left to me by my father. Push comes to shove and we need protection, of course I'm going to let people use them. However, unless this camp is in immediate danger or in desperate need of food, those guns remain untouched."

Shane gives a curt nod, obviously not pleased with my selfishness, and backs away. I sigh, feeling like shit for having to tell him that they were mine, but I have no choice.

"Look, I'm sorry, I know I sound irrational, but…but I have to make sure I've got enough. In normal circumstances, I'd never be so egotistical as to think that what's mine is not to share, but desperate times are here and I have to take desperate measures. Plus this is not a permanent thing, I told everyone that outright, so letting you all get use to my firepower is not something I want to happen. I'll be setting my tent up over there." I say, grabbing my pack and the stuff from Daryl's backpack before heading towards the edge of the campsite, feeling like a complete asshole. I rip my tent out of the bag and get it together as quickly as I can without shattering one of the tent poles.

Just as I go to attach the last end to the peg, the damn thing starts snapping back, refusing to hook together.

"Jesus Christ…" I mutter, tugging harder on the pole, forcing it to bend to my will. I continue to struggle with them until I hear a chuckle from behind me and as I turn to see who is there, a pair of larger, more calloused hands fold over my own and easily lock the two into place. I glance up over my shoulder and find Daryl behind me, grinning down.

"Thanks." I say briskly, before pulling his hands off and walking into my tent. I start to unpack some of my things when I hear the tent door rustle as Daryl enters too. I throw a dirty look his way, before continuing on as if he wasn't even there.

_He wants to be a complete dickhole and ignore the fact that his brother nearly killed me? Fine by me, two can play at this motherfucking game._

I start to unpack certain parts of my medicine bag, tearing and ripping at everything I can when I feel Daryl move closer behind me.

"Something you want?" I ask sharply, refusing to turn around.

Silence is the only answer I receive, so I continue going on with my unloading. After ten strait minutes, I realize that I have nothing more to do with my things. I turn and try to make my way around Daryl, but he some how has managed to block me in on all sides, forcing me between his chest and the edge of the tent. I stare upwards, eyes narrowed, looking into his blue ones and feeling nothing other than the hair on my neck rising and my teeth gritting together.

"What."

"I came ta' help…and talk ta' ya'."

"You've helped me out quite enough for one day, Redneck, what makes you think I wanna talk to your sorry ass." I spit out at him, ducking underneath his arm and making my way towards the door. I feel my face practically change colors and the temperature in my body rise. I am not an angry person by any means, but there is just something about this boy that…that gets under my skin. As I storm my way to the opening in the tent, Daryl grabs me by the arm and pulls me back to him as he spins me around. I end up smack against his chest once again.

"What's tha' supposed ta' mean"

My eyes fly upwards, wide with disbelief,

"Please tell me you are kidding…TELL ME YOU ARE NOT SO DENSE AS TO BELIEVE THAT YOU DID NOTHING WRONG TODAY! YOU'RE BROTHER SHOVED ME UP AGAINST A TREE, CHOKING ME TO DEATH, WHILE YOU STOOD THERE AND JUST WATCHED! YOU ACTED AS IF I WAS NO BETTER THAN THE SHIT OFF YOUR BOOTS…" I scream, unable to control my boiling anger with this man anymore, and once I start going, I don't stop.

"I COULD HAVE DIED THERE AND YOU ACTED LIKE IT WAS NO FUCKING BIG DEAL! I SHOULD HAVE NEVER KILLED THAT WALKER THAT WAS RUNNING BEHIND YOU THIS MORNING, OR WHEN I WAS HUNTING! IT WOULD HAVE BEEN A HELL OF A LOT EASIER THAN THIS FUCKING SHIT!"

By now I'm pushing and hitting his chest, hot, angry tears streaming down my face as I do. He just takes it, not saying a word, which makes me even angrier. Am I not even worthy of a full-fledged reaction from him? Not getting the shouting and pounding I wanted back, I pull away and retreat to my own personal bubble, closing off every piece of physical and verbal contact I have with him. After a few minutes of deep breathing and internal debate about how much shit I would get if I just shot him, I finally get back to a somewhat normal emotional state.

"If you hate me that fucking much, why not just let me leave right now! Let the walkers take care of me! You've said it yourself, 'no one can survive by themselves in this world', so why…why not just let me go…let me just pretend that I can live out there in the wide open for a while longer until I fuck up and get my ass bitten? Just…just let me leave…please…just…just…I wanna go home, and just sit in bed and die. Then you'll never have to see my sorry ass ever again."I whisper, staring into his eyes and challenging him to come up with one good reason why I shouldn't just run off right then. Like usual, or so it seems, Daryl doesn't let any emotion through; he's walled himself pretty damn tight and I have no idea what he's thinking. After thirty seconds or so, he looks me strait in the eye and starts to talk.

"Ya' listen here lil' miss. I'm sorry fer snatchin' ya' like that, wasn' rite of me ta' do that to ya'. But ya' hav' ta' see it this way, I walked in on a lil' woman all by herself, with no protection from anyone else…that ain't a good situation rite there. Plus yer a good hunter and tracker, probably good at fishin' too. These people need that, they need help from people like…like me and ya'. Otherwise they'll be dead quicker' than candlewick. And I don' hate ya'. You've been a pain in my ass since ya' got here, no questionin' that, but I don' hate ya'. If I did, I never would a brought yer ass back ta' camp. Or carried ya' back ta' the tent las' nite. Or told Merle ta' let go of ya'. I'd of either let him kill ya' or let ya' run yer ass back ta' whatever place ya' come from. But I haven', have I? That's cause…that's cause ya' need us jus' as much as we need ya'. Didn' ya' say last nite tha' it's us verses them? If it's us vs them, then why the hell would I let ya' run off? More of us, means an easier chance of killin' them. So go ahead, be mad or sad or whatever yer feelin', but it ain't gonna change anythin'. Now yer gonna sit yer ass down fer a couple of days and try this here camp life out…and if ya' still hate…I'll…I'll let ya' leave and ain't no one gonna come after ya'. Deal?"

He spits on his palm and then extends his hand outwards, never breaking eye contact. I pause for a few seconds, debating this agreement before spiting on my own hand and shaking.

"Deal. But I tell you right now Redneck you better keep this promise. Otherwise, I'll run off with that crossbow of your's and I guarantee that you'll never see it, or me, again." I threaten, pushing him out of the tent.

"Now I've got a shit ton of stuff to do, so good night." I say, zipping up my door as I do. I stop for a second and then unzip the tent door again, watching as he walks back to the center of camp.

"Hey Daryl!"

He turns and looks at me.

"I know that I'm a lucky son of a bitch. I mean, to still be alive after five month all by myself. That's not skill, just a bunch of fucking good fortune. I've had more than a few close calls and each time it's getting harder and harder because more and more walkers are appearing everywhere. So I guess…basically what I'm trying to say…I wanted to say…Jesus Christ, what the fuck brain? I'm trying to tell you…thanks for bringing me here. Still owe me a turkey though!"

For the first time since I got here yesterday, I see the tiniest sliver of an actual smile appear on Daryl's lips as he gives a nod and then starts walking back to camp again. For the rest of the day, and part of the night, I get everything I need for the next few days unpacked, and by the time I go to sleep, the sky has started to lighten. I'm exhausted, but I manage to groggily change into a pair of sweat shorts and a peach tank top before I collapse into sleep. Even though I'm dead tired, that doesn't stop the nightmares from happening.


	6. Chapter 6

_**I'm alone in the woods, desperately trying to find my way back to camp as the wind howls and tree branches snap and scratch against my body. I can feel the blood trickling down the sides of my face, my arms, my legs, everywhere that isn't covered by my tank top and shorts. It is dark as shadows and I can't see a damn thing, so I just keep sprinting through the forest, ignoring the sting of new cuts and the harshness of my breathing. After what feels like hours, I swear I hear church bells ringing in the distance. As I keep running, they start getting louder and louder until I find a small little church in the middle of a clearing. It's one of those old country churches you see in 1950's southern romance movies, where the whole thing is white, except for the ugly, bright red roof and the beautiful stain glass windows that have scenes from the Bible on them, with a big steeple right in the front. When I jog closer, I find that someone has lit candles inside and it's making the stain glass shine bright colors everywhere, contrasting greatly with the sinister weather. Desperate for any kind of haven, I make my way to the doors and fling them open. The inside is just as country bumpkin as the outside: twelve wooden white pews lining each side and a pulpit draped in black stands at the front with a statue of the crucifix hanging high above it. I look up into the eyes of Jesus, but they are turned upwards, towards the sky, as if he is too ashamed to stare at me due to the wretched things he has put me through. I shake my head and look around, seeing if I can find something or someone. The whole place is empty, except for someone, a man, kneeling in the front pew with a rosary in his hands, reciting the Lord 's Prayer.**_

"_**Our father, who art in heaven…"**_

_**I creep closer as he keeps on saying the prayer, over and over again. Once I get right in front of him, I find that the man praying is none other than Daryl.**_

"_**And forgive us our trespasses, as we forgive those who trespass against us…"**_

"_**Daryl?"**_

_**He either doesn't hear me or chooses to ignore that I ever said his name, he just keeps on reciting the prayer as if it were the only thing he was taught to do. I stare as he says it a few more times before finally getting fed up with it.**_

"_**HEY REDNECK!"**_

_**Nothing. He just…keeps going. Slightly frightened, I grab his shoulders and shake him.**_

"_**Daryl?! Babe, STOP! You're scaring me."**_

_**Finally he looks up like it's the first time he's ever seen me.**_

"_**Rose…"**_

_**He stands up, causing me to stumble backwards, but before I hit the ground he grabs me and pulls me back upright.**_

"_**Thanks" I breathe, stunned at being this close to Daryl. I feel something…something other than utter annoyance at him.**_

_**He doesn't say anything, just strokes the side of my cheek and then ever so gently starts to kiss me…**_

I wake up in a jolt. I don't remember my dream, only that I was really scared in the beginning and then towards the end…something really good happened. I sit up and try for five minutes to recall any details that come to mind: Stain glass windows, rain, blood, the Lord's Prayer, Jesus's eyes turned up towards heaven, and a kiss. I shake my head, seeing if anything else will come to mind, but I just end up making myself dizzy. I close my eyes for a few seconds, letting the world right itself, before getting up and starting my day. First things first, I smell AWFUL. I try to remember the last time I bathed, but it's been so long that I barely remember. I walk out the tent and strait over to Lori, whose taking some venison off the fire for breakfast.

"Hey. Breakfast?" she asks, holding out a plate for me.

I shake my head,

"Nah, I can never eat right when I get up, makes me sick. Thank you though; I'll get some later. Anyway, I smell like a bag of scum, where exactly do you guys bathe?"

"In the quarry lake. Not much privacy there and the fishes swim between your toes, but it's better than nothing. If you're going to bathe though, no soap or shampoos or whatever else you may have. We want the lake to stay as pure as it can so we don't kill the fish or pollute the water."

I nod in understanding,

"Gotcha. I don't have any of that crap anyway, ran out of my last soap bar somewhere in Virginia. I'll be back up as quick as I can. Make sure the men don't chow down on all my food, otherwise I'll have to stick as arrow in their ass." I wink at her, earning a small grin from Lori.

I turn and head down the mountainside to the water. Glancing around the surrounding area, I listen and look for anybody or anything that might be nearby. After a few minutes of silence, I decide that it's safe to strip down and get in. I quickly remove my tank top, shorts, tennis shoes, black sports bra, knife holders and the knives that are in them, and underwear before making a dash and jumping into the water. I was expecting it to be freezing, as most ponds are, but the heat from the sun must have warmed it after so many days of ninety plus temperatures. I break the surface and doggy paddle to a place in the water where I can just barely touch; meaning everything except my head is safely covered. I bob around for a few seconds, making sure that no one is around once again. When I decide that it's all good, I suck in as much oxygen as I can before diving to the floor and scooping up a handful of sand. Once I'm back up on the surface, I start to use the sand to scrub away as my skin. It's rough and uncomfortable, but I learned though experiments while in South Carolina that sand helps to remove dead skin and dirt easier than just rubbing with your hands. After a few minutes, I finally relax a bit and start to enjoy myself. Old habits must die hard, because before I know it, I'm singing my favorite song, Jaded by Aerosmith.

**Hey j-j-jaded, you got your mama's style**  
**But you're yesterday's child to me**  
**So jaded**  
**You think that's where it's at**  
**But is that where it's supposed to be**  
**You're gettin' it all over me and serrated**

**My, my baby blue**  
**Yeah I been thinkin' about you**  
**My, my baby blue**  
**Yeah you're so jaded**  
**And I'm the one that jaded you**

**Hey j-j-jaded**  
**In all it's misery**  
**It will always be what I love and hated**  
**And maybe take a ride to the other side**  
**We're thinkin' of**  
**We'll slip into the velvet glove**  
**And be jaded**

**My, my baby blue**  
**Yeah I'm thinkin about you**  
**My, my baby blue**  
**Yeah I'm so jaded**  
**And baby I'm afraid of you**

**Your thinking's so complicated**  
**I've had it all up to here**  
**But it's so overrated**  
**Love and hated**  
**Wouldn't trade it**  
**Love me jaded**

**Hey j-j-jaded**  
**There ain't no baby please**  
**When I'm shootin the breeze with her**  
**When everything you see is a blur**  
**And ectasy's what you prefer**

**My, my baby blue**  
**Yeah I'm talkin' about you**  
**My, my baby blue**  
**Yeah I've been thinkin' about you**  
**My, my baby blue**  
**Yeah you're so jaded**  
**Baby**  
**Jaded**  
**Baby**  
**You're so jaded**  
**'Cause I'm the one that jaded you**

I plunge down another five times, singing and harshly scrubbing my skin again until I'm all pink and as clean as I can be. I dive under once more and scrub my head with my hands furiously as I try to clean as much of the oil off as I can. Once I break the surface again, I decide that I'm clean enough to not be a huge pile of stink. I turn and start to walk back towards the shore when I glance up and find Daryl sitting on a rock, grinning and watch me. I yipe and fall backwards into the water. I scramble back up to the surface and move backwards until I'm tippy toeing in the water.

"JESUS CHRIST DARYL! Give me a heart attack why don't you!"

He just looks at me and I feel my stomach drop a little…like when my dad use to fly over dips in the rode or when I would ride a roller coaster with a huge hill. I shake off the feeling and then realize that here I am bare ass naked and talking to some man I met just a few days ago. I feel a bubble of anger rise.

"How long have you been sitting there?!"

"Long enough to hear the second line of that song, Lil' Miss."

I feel a blush paint its way across my cheeks as my mind registers that Daryl probably saw, at the very least, my white as snow ass cheeks.

_Fuck my life, no…No…NO! Really?! The first man to see me completely exposed is Daryl Dixon? Perfect, just perfect. _

I look down into the water, refusing to bring my eyes upwards. I've never felt so embarrassed in my entire life and I wait a few moments, so I can gain some composure.

"Oh? Well…I need to get out, can you…can you leave?" I manage to ask, still staring down into the water. An eternity of silence seems spreads between us.

"Daryl, seriously…I need to get out and get dressed and I can't…I can't when you're standing there…just…turn around or walk away or something dude, honestly it'll onl—"

Suddenly I hear splashing and look up to find Daryl has stripped down to nothing but what the good lord gave him and has made his way into the water. My eyes widen in response and I freeze for a second before swimming away from him, out to where I can't touch at all. However, while I can climb trees and fire off an arrow like it's no one's business, I swim about as well as a boulder, so it doesn't take very long for Daryl to catch me, and he still has his feet planted firmly on the floor.

"What the fuck Daryl?! Just…just…just let me out! Cover your eyes or…or…" I stammer as I try to tread water while also keeping a buffer zone of three or four feet between us.

He smirks at me, obviously loving the fact that I'm so uncomfortable that I literally cannot form a sentence.

"What's the matter darlin'? Ain't you never been naked in front a someone 'fore?"

I stare him in the eyes for a second, my fear and embarrassment just radiating from my core before feeling my face turn even redder. The smirk he had planted across his face falters and he cocks an eyebrow.

"Holy hell, you've never been naked in front a someone, have ya'? So does that make ya'…"

"WE ARE DONE WITH THIS CONVERSATION! I NEED OUT SO COVER YOUR EYES AND DON'T LOOK!" I yell, trying my hardest to sound demanding, but in reality, I sound more upset.

He stares at me for few seconds before turning his back the other way. I wait a few moments; unsure as to whether he really is going to let me out without a fight, but he keeps his head firmly rotated the other direction. I violently trash my way to the shore and fling my clothes, tennis shoes, and knives on my wet body before running back up the hill to Lori where I silently accept my breakfast, the mortification of what just happened still rushing through me.


	7. Chapter 7

I must have been spacing out and thinking all about the quarry when I feel someone sit down, and turn to find that Carl has plopped down on my right.

"Hiya Carl."

"Hi. So when are you going to take me tracking?!" he asks excitedly, practically jumping up and down and pulling me out of my seat. I laugh and ruffle the hair on his head.

"Hold your horses little man, I'm sure you've got chores or something to do around here, and I have to finish breakfast and talk with a few people. Plus Shane said that Daryl had to go with us, so we have to make sure that he's not busy either. But I'll tell you what, you get everything your mama asks you to do done by mid-day, I'll wrap everything I've got to do here and get Daryl, and I'll take you out. Deal?"

"DEAL!" he yells before running off to do whatever Lori had planned for him. I smile as he runs the other direction and quickly scarf down the rest of my breakfast. The next few hours are spent trying to figure out where is the best place to get my therapy sessions started, which eventually turns out to be the RV after I bribe Dale with a copy of Charles Dickens's A Christmas Story and Shakespeare's Macbeth. The first person I get the chance to speak with is Dale, obviously, since he's the closest one around. He sits down and lounges backwards, appearing to be quite comfortable with the idea of speaking to me.

"So Dale, ever been to a counselor before?" I ask, eyes locked on his, showing him I am ready to accept whatever he may say.

"Yes, only once though, I met a grief counselor."

"Oh? What about?"

"Irma's death."

"Irma?"

"She is…was my wife. She died of cancer right before the outbreak happened."

"I'm sorry you had to lose your wife like that Dale, I've lost a few people to things like that, my grandfather died of stage IV esophageal cancer when I was 13, and I know that was hard on everyone in my entire family. So why don't you tell me a little bit about Irma? What kind of person was she?"

I watch a sad smile light up Dale's face as he starts what seems like a never ending description of his wife.

"Oh she was the perfect woman, witty, kind, intelligent, sociable, hard-working, classy, adventurous, imaginative, and was quite the beauty, even when the chemo took all of her hair. She use to tell me that I was crazy, that bald she looked like an alien, but to me, she was still the most beautiful women in the entire world. We met in high school, freshmen year. She was the sweetest and most popular girl in the entire grade, cheerleader, class president, and so kind to everyone. I'll swear to the day I die she never had a soul hate her in her entire life. And then there was me, backwards, strait A honor roll nerd who had never even talked to a girl before, let alone someone so flawless. By fate or grand design or plain old dumb luck, somehow I ended up sitting beside her in Mr. Baker's fourth period English class. She sat down beside me, turned and gave the prettiest smile and said 'Hello. My name's Irma, nice to meet you.' And me being me, I just froze and managed to mumble out 'Dale. How da do.'

I thought for sure I had blown my chance of ever speaking to her again, but she kept trying and eventually we found a common ground…books. We both loved the same books, which was practically all books. At the beginning of each month, we'd each pick a book that we wanted to read, and the next week we'd have to be finished and then we'd give the books we had read to each other, so the other person could read. Then for the next two weeks we'd end up talking about nothing else but those books. It was…well perfect. And that happened throughout all of high school. We became best friends, and senior year we end up dating. I thought I was the luckiest guy in the world, and I told everyone that I was eventually going to marry her someday and I did.

A year after we graduated high school, May 29, 1965 at 3:00pm, she finished a scavenger hunt to all of the important places we had been to during our relationship, like the English classroom where we met, or the malt shop where we shared our first kiss, things like that, that ended at me in the middle of a park in my best suit on one knee holding a bouquet of roses and lilies and the best diamond ring any 19-year-old could afford. She said yes of course, and the rest is history. I got the chance to spend 50 years with the woman of my dreams, and you know what? Right up to the day she died, she was still throwing curve balls at me that made my neck snap.

I remember this one time, right after we found out that the cancer still hadn't gone away, the both of us took a walk down this path in the park near our home and I was just distraught. Imagine, losing the love of your life, your best friend, the one person you had spent most of your life with, thinking they would be there and suddenly they were going to die due to a manifestation of cells that had malfunctioned. I just…I guess I was still just in shock, and I kept talking about all the things we would have to do and the travelling and the doctors I would call all to keep her alive. But Irma wouldn't hear it, she was happy, almost serene. She turned to me as I told her about a doctor that I had found in eastern Ireland that had created a treatment for cancer that was basically some kind of ingestible chemo and she planted a finger on my lips. 'Dale,' she said, 'Honey, I don't want to do any more treatments. This is exhausting, being toted from county to county, state to state, all for the doctors to prod and poke at me, just to tell me there is nothing anyone can do. I love you, and I love that you want to save me so much, but darling, there is nothing left to do.' When…when she said that I felt my entire being just stop working. I wouldn't accept that there was nothing left to do and I kept trying to save her for weeks after that, but she always refused with a smile on her face. I eventually learned to accept the inevitable, and once I did I decided to buy this," he says gesturing around to the RV.

"I was going to take her on a road trip all around the U.S., show her the best sites of the country, but I had to wait for my job to let me retire, and there retiring age was 64. But Irma…she just couldn't wait that long. She died three months before I got the chance to leave, and it was…it was the most difficult thing in the world. I don't even remember all of it entirely, there are moments where I…I just…there are black spaces where memories should be." He stammers, tears falling from his eyes. I feel a few tears spill from my eyes as well, and I quickly wipe them away. I reach across the table and place my hand over Dale's.

"Dale, that is one of the most beautiful love stories I have ever heard, and you are one very lucky man to have gotten the chance to live such a fantastic romance. But here's the thing, you sound like you've moved on quite healthily. You even said yourself that you came to accept her death, which is the last stage of grief. So I'm trying to understand, what is the problem that you are coming to me with?"

"I have no problem. I've accepted that Irma is gone, and there is a part of me that is happy that she died believing that the world would live forever and society was as stable as ever…you know, before the walkers appeared. But, I never get the chance to talk about her, to anyone. There is an unspoken rule here: We don't speak of the past, only of the present or the future. So to get the chance to live out some memories that I had with Irma for even just a day is…well it's a treat. Thank you for letting me." Dale says as he places his other hand on top of both of ours.

"Dale, it was honestly a pleasure getting to speak to you. Now I'm jealous of the life you got to live with her...50 years of true love is…well it's something I don't know if I'll ever get to experience, particularly since the amount of suitors I had a chance with has declined drastically. But, why don't you tell me more? Like what was your and Irma's first proper date like?"

Dales face beams brighter than the sun, and for the next few hours, he tells me every sad, funny, sweet, and strange memory he can recall about his and Irma's life together. Everything from the time they went to the fair together and his pants somehow managed to get stuck on the seat, eventually forcing him to take them off in order to get off the ride and he had to walk all the way home in just his underwear to Irma's miscarriage to their wedding day. I was just wiping my tears when the RV door opened and in walked Daryl. He glances at the two of us and freezes for a second, obviously not use to dealing with tears from anybody.

"Sorry." He mumbles, ducking out of the RV. I turn to Dale and wipe my tears once again, smiling.

"I'm obviously being called upon, I'll talk some more with you later." I say, standing up and grabbing the bow and arrows that had been resting next to the table. Dale nods and I head out of the RV and into the sunlight.


	8. Chapter 8

Daryl is leaning against the side when I come out the door and he comes to stand in front of me.

"What?"

"We ain't doin' nothin' rite now, and I just found the trail of a rabbit. Figured' we could teach Carl ta' track."

"Uhh, sure. Know where he's at?"

"No, but I'm sure we can find him sumwhere 'round here."

Daryl stares at me for a second and then moves closer to me. I back up for a second, unsure as to where this is going, but he simply extends his hand out and lifts my chin up, so he can look into my eyes. We catch eye contact and hold it there.

_Ummm, ok? What the hell is going on?! I mean…why is he just looking at my eyes? Not that I haven't had guys do stranger things to me, like the time the dude on the subway grabbed my hand and clipped off a finger nail (let's just say, long story short he ended up with a broken nose) But this feels…I don't know, strange…._

"What?"

"Why was you cryin'?"

"Just…stories Dale was telling me is all…why does it matter to you anyway?"

Daryl just shakes his head and starts walking towards Lori, Carl, and Shane's tent. I follow and try, as best I can, to keep up with his 5'10" strides, which is no easy task for the short girl. Seriously, Daryl's pace is ridiculous…plus…what the hell is with this attitude? I mean, don't get me wrong, he's not mindlessly sitting on the sidelines watching me get killed, but for him to act like he cares…no, that's just…just not how this is supposed to work.

We make it to the tent, but before we get the chance to knock, we hear Shane and Lori arguing pretty fiercely inside.

"Shane, Carl is MY son, and I'll be the one to make decisions about where he goes and what he does, and he is not going out into those woods with them. We don't even know who this girl is, she could just…I don't know, take him and run off! Or kill him and Daryl. I just…no."

"Lori, she's half of Daryl's height and weight and you think she's going to be able to not only take him down, but kill him? This is Daryl Dixon we're talking about, the only thing that can kill a Dixon is God himself. Plus, tracking is a good thing for Carl to learn. It's a skill he'll be able to use during his life. And I thought you liked her? You even said that she was someone we needed."

"Just because she's valuable to the group does not mean I trust her with my son's life! Rick's dead and Carl…Carl's all I've got left."

It goes silent for a second and I hear the telltale shaky breath that normally follows crying. I look over at Daryl, but he's not providing comfort or sympathy at all, showing me that this was my idea so I'm obviously on my own. I take a deep breath, stick a cheesy smile on my face, and knock on the tent door.

"Yeah?" Shane calls from inside.

"Uhh, it's Rose and Daryl. Is Lori in there? We just were wondering if it would be alright to take Carl out tracking right now. Neither of us has anything to do and so…ummm…we just thought it would be best."

The tent's door unzips after a couple of moments and Lori and Shane step out. Lori seems to be staring me down as if looking into my eyes is going to be able to tell her whether I'm really there to take her son away from her. I stare right back, not allowing myself to waver.

"So can we take Carl?"

"I just don't know if I feel comfortable letting him go out there…"

"Lori, listen, Carl reminds me of my little brother, ok? That's why I offered to teach him how to track. I'm not going out there to kidnap or murder or deflower him in any way. The kid just looked so…so broken because of the shit we have all around us and I just wanted to give him something to look forward to."

For a brief second, Lori looks like she might just believe what I'm saying, but I watch as the doubt starts to seep itself into her face again. Knowing there is only one way I can prove to her that I mean Carl no harm whatsoever, I take the hand gun from my waistband, the knives from around my thighs, and the bow off my back. I place each of them to the ground in front of her.

"I don't want to hurt him."

She cocks her head and stares at me for a few more seconds before closing her eyes and giving a small nod.

"Fine."

"Where is he?"

"Down by Carol and Ed's tent. He and Sophia were playing."

I give a nod and then spin around, heading towards the grey three person tent that is on the other side of the camp. I find Sophia and Carl playing 20 questions while sitting in the dirt that is outside of the tent. As I make my way over, Carl happens to look over and see me walking. Immediately his eyes light up and he stops his game.

"ROSE!"

"Hiya Carl, ready to go tracking?"

"Yes!" he says, jumping up and smiling. He starts to make his way over to me, but he stops abruptly, turning to look back at Sophia. Carl turns around and looks up at me with big, puppy-dog eyes.

"Can Sophia come too?"

I look down at the young girl, who I've never had the chance to speak to, and see another set of broken eyes. I give a soft smile and make my way over to the two.

"Would you like to come with us?"

The quiet girl gives a small nod and I extend my hand out to her, which she accepts, and I pull her up off the ground.

"I have to ask your parents first, where are they?"

"In the tent."

As if on cue, out walks Ed, Sophia's father, looking down with a stern glare.

"Hell is going on here? Why you talking to my girl?"

"You must be Sophia's father. I haven't had the chance to introduce myself, I'm Rose. I was just about to take Carl out to teach him how to track animals and I wanted to know if it would be alright if I took Sophia out with me as well."

Ed gives a mighty snort before giving me the stink eyes.

"Ain't no reason for her to have to learn to track. Sophia's a girl, and the only place for the women in my family is doing the women work, like cleanin' n' cookin'." He says, wrapping an arm around her shoulders. I watch Sophia stiffen like a plank and eye Ed for a moment, trying to figure out whether to just go without her or stay and fight. One more look from those blue eyes and I know that I can't just let her go.

"Tracking is a valuable skill, for both genders to know Ed. Helps bring in more food for the whole group, and could save her life if she were ever put in a situation where, god forbid, she got separated from the group. Plus she'll be safe with Daryl and I if that's what you're worried about."

"I said no Woman, now git." He says before shuffling Sophia into the tent and closing the door. I give an angry huff and turn to Carl.

"Sorry bud, I tried, but I just can't rip her away from her father, even if his ideas are misogynistic and make me want to rip a branch off of a tree."

He glances back at the tent and shrugs his shoulders, "Sophia's dad doesn't let her do anything ever. He makes her always be here. I just wanted her to have fun."

I give a sad smile and clasp his shoulder, steering him towards the forest.

"I know Carl, but sometimes people have ideas about how others should live their life, like Ed thinking that Sophia is only capable of doing housework, and people like you and I disagree with him. We may not like how he thinks, but as long as nobody is getting hurt, we have to respect that he has his way of thinking and we have ours."

He just continues to stare ahead, deep in thought about something it seems, so I leave him to his ideas and stop him at the edge of camp, looking over at Daryl.

"After you."

Daryl grunts in response and makes his way through the woods as silent as Death himself. As we walk, I explain to Carl why it is important to stay quiet when looking for animals, and the best way to look for tracks, droppings, broken branches, bits of fur, and things like that to find an animal. After trekking around for a good half hour, I start to see the signs of the rabbit Daryl was talking about. I stop and point to the mud on the ground where the rabbit left four paw prints.

"See those? Those are rabbit tracks, and that's what we're going to look for today. So I want you to look around for those prints and follow them. If you get stuck, Daryl and I will help you, so don't worry."

Carl gives a smile before looking around, following the tracks. He got stuck a few times, but after a point in the right direction, he was able to pick it right back up. After 45 minutes, the three of us crept into a clearing where right in the middle sat the large, brown rabbit. Carl turned up to me with a smile, and I gave him a thumbs up, silently telling him that he had been fantastic. He smiled even bigger and turned to watch the rabbit hop around and mindlessly chop on the grass. I smiled down at him, enjoying the delight that had shined its way outwards from that little guy.

I turned and looked at Daryl, ready to tell him thank you, only to find his bow raised and aimed right at the animal. I looked down at Carl and quickly tried to tell him not to shoot, but my mind and body moved too slowly. Suddenly the rabbit was dead and Carl looked shocked. I stared at Daryl, utter disbelief taking over for a few seconds before I felt my anger bubble under the surface.

"Daryl! What the hell?!"

"What? I didn' come all the way out here t'a just look at the damn thing."

"Can. I. Speak. To. You. For. A. Second." I ask as calmly as my emotions would let me. Not responding to my question, I grab his arms and drag him to the other side of the clearing. I spin around and cross my arms, just staring up at him.

"What the fuck Daryl?! Carl was right there, you can't just kill a rabbit in front of him! The poor kid looks like he's never seen anything killed before and there you go slaughtering the god damn Easter Bunny when it isn't do a damn fucking thing." I whisper crossly.

"It's food Lil' Miss, and I ain't gonna let food go ta' waste. And do ya' see what kinda world we're all in right now?! Everything's tryin' ta kill everything else. Kid needs ta' git use ta' it, cause it sure as hell ain't gettin' any better any time soon."

"You had no right to expose him to that Redneck, he's just a kid!"

"I went through a lot worse when I was his age, and I turned out just fine. So stop babyin' him. You're one of them damn people that's was makin' the whole world a place full of fags, men likin' pink and wearin' dresses and shit, that was all your fault."

"And people like you and your brother were the reason that so many people were depressed as fuck and hung themselves in their closets. So don't act like you are some God. You're an ignorant little shit of backwoods that is trying his best to make sure that I kill him. Kindly fuck off."

I reach down and rip his Bowie knife out of its casing, pushing past him and over to Carl, who is just sitting on the ground and staring at the bloody corpse of a rabbit. I get my anger under control and crouch down to him.

"Carl, come on, stop staring at it. Daryl can take care of the rabbit while we head back to camp, ok?"

He shakes his head yes as I pull him up off with me. Without a glance backwards, Carl and I head out of the clearing and as fast as I can manage, because I know that if I stay anywhere near Daryl, I may wrap my hands around his throat and choke him to death.


	9. Chapter 9

For thirty minutes, Carl and I made our way towards camp, but the poor kid needed to take a rest. While I was somewhat use to walking for hours on end, he wasn't, so we settled down near a small creek He still hadn't said a word since we left the clearing, and I could feel a knot of worry tying itself in my stomach. I watch as he just sits and stares at the water, lost in his mind. I settle down beside him and we share a few minutes of silence before I start to talk.

"Carl? Are you all right?"

"Why do people kill things?"

"What kind of things Carl?"

"Anything. Why do people kill anything?"

"Well there are lots of reasons people kill things. People kill animals because our bodies need protein, and animal meat has a lot of protein in it, so we kill them and eat them in order to make sure our bodies keep working right. People kill bacteria because they can harm our bodies and make us sick. We kill bugs because sometimes they scare us, and sometimes they hurt us. And, unfortunately, people occasionally kill other people. Sometimes it's an accident, like if two people were in a car crash and someone dies, other times it's because some people don't know what to do when they get angry, so they take it out on others, and sometimes people do it because no one taught them that it was wrong to harm others, or they were hurt by someone and they want to make others feel the amount of pain they feel. Honestly, most of the time people kill things because they want to survive, and they think that's the only way they can."

There is a few beats of silence as Carl appears to mull over what I say, and in those few beats I hear the shuffle of leaves to our right. I immediately stand up and prick my ears up to hear what is going on.

"What?" he asks from the ground.

"Something is out there…Carl, get behind me." I say, drawing the Bowie knife. I push him back so that he is up against the tree, and I'm between him and whatever is coming. A few seconds later and I see four walkers hobbling through the woods, making their way to us. The adrenaline in my body starts to pump and my mind whirls as I try to figure out what the hell to do since I am alone in the woods with a 12-year-old I have to protect and a group of walkers coming towards me.

_Fuck me, fuck me, FUCK ME! What do I do, what do I do…UP. I HAVE TO GET HIM TO GO UP._

I spin around and grab Carl around the waist, pushing him up so that he can grab the lowest branch on the tree behind us.

"Ever climbed a tree before?"

"No!"

"Well, you have to now. You go up three more branches; they won't be able to reach you from there. You stay up there until I say it's safe to come down or Daryl comes along, got it?"

"But what if I fall?"

"I'll catch you. I promise, nothing is going to get you while I'm here."

"Ok." He says, grabbing onto the branch and pulling himself up. Once I see that he's up, I turn back around and find the four walkers have seen me, and are now coming full force my way.

"Come on you ugly sons of bitches, let's see what you got!" I scream, mind and body poised and ready to fight.

The first that makes it to me, a tall, lanky one with a maintenance man's suit on, and I drive the knife right through his temple, stopping him as quick as possible. I pull it out as fast as I can and find the next two, a blonde with a pink business suit on and a redheaded, college age boy with glasses running at me, jaws clashing together with hunger or anger or whatever the hell those things feel. Knowing I can't take on two at one time, I dodge my way around the tree, cutting off the blond for a second, but giving me the chance to kill the redhead by shoving my knife right through his eye. Before I can pull it out though, Blondie has made her way around the tree and grabs my arm, ready to take a bite. I kick her in the stomach, causing her to lose her grip just enough for me to back away. I quickly swipe the knife from Redhead's eyes and shove it into Blondie's temple. She drops to the ground and I pull the knife out. I turn and find the last walker sniffing and scratching at the tree Carl is in. Now this walker was no normal person, but a behemoth monster. He is white, at least 6'5" 250 pound, and from the look of the tattoos covering his body, a white supremacy gang member.

"ROSE!" Carl cries, fear etching itself into his words.

"I'M COMING CARL!" I yell, making me way over, trying to figure out how the hell I'm going to take down this giant brute. My breathing is heavy and my body is tired, but I know that I can't stop yet, not with Carl here. I wipe the sweat from my forehead and crouch down into a fighting stance.

"HEY! BIG BOY!"

The giant turns around until he finds the source of the noise, spying me a good 50 feet away.

"YEAH, YOU! Come show me what you got."

As if understanding what I'm saying, the geek growls and starts shambling towards me. I wait, crouched and ready to attack. The Oaf makes his way over, and I run to meet him, but out of nowhere, a root seems to have grown, and I trip onto my face. I knock my head against a rock on the ground, and soon after feel a river of blood trickle itself down my face.

Not feeling the pain, I roll over and pull myself up. My head feels like it's somewhere floating on a cloud, but the instinct to survive drives me to keep fighting. I look down and discover that my knife flew from my hand when I fell. Glancing around, I see the shiny, silver part glimmer in the sunlight a about 100 feet away. Knowing that I had not a fighting chance without the knife, I stumble my way towards it. The blow to my head must have done something to my brain though, because I don't make it but a few steps before falling again. I scramble up and try again, but I crash back down to the forest floor. Not knowing what else to do, I crawl. I make it within feet of the knife, but the Oaf has caught up to me.

He grabs my ankle and pulls me towards him, growling like a beast. I try to kick him, but his arms are so long that my short legs can't reach him. I wiggle and fight, but it is useless, I've been caught. I feel my fear rising like bile in my throat and I scream, unable to control myself. I swear to you, the fucking Oaf smiles at me before lunging down to try and bite me. I close my eyes, ready to hear the flesh being ripped away as he eats me, praying to God that He makes this the quickest fucking death ever. After a few seconds though, I don't feel anything at all.

My eyes, which were crunched together in fear, loosen, and I slowly open them. The Oaf is just resting there above me, held up only by my leg strength. I stare at it for a few seconds and then move my leg. The Oaf falls and lands on top of me, all of his weight crushing me and knocking the wind out of my lungs. Disgusted, I push and pull until I have dragged myself out from under the zombies massive body. I pull away and take a few breaths, trying to calm myself down now that I'm not about to be eaten. I look at the walker's head and find a bolt has launched itself through the back of his skull. I look around, trying to find where it came from and see Daryl standing in the distance, crossbow still raised. I smile over at him, but before I get the chance to say anything, I feel my body begin to fall and then I am surrounded in a silent blackness.


	10. Chapter 10

After that, I don't really remember much. There are bits and pieces that I can recall, like hearing Daryl and Dale talking,

"How's she doin' Dale?"

"About the same, still out cold, but she's breathing and her heart is still beating."

Then I was plunged back under the sea of darkness. Sometime later I manage to get back to the surface and I hear Carl and Lori talking.

"Mom, is she going to be ok?"

"I don't know Carl…I don't know."

"This is my fault."

"Carl, you listen to me, this is not your fault."

"But Mom…"

I fade out again. The third time I make it back I finally seem to be able to do more than just lie there and listen. I try to open my eyes all the way, only to be blinded by the light streaming into the tent.

"Fuck me…" I croak slamming my eyes shut again to make sure I don't end up going blind.

"Well, if ya' really want it."

"Fucking hell, Daryl?"

"Lil' Miss."

After a few minutes of letting my eyes adjust after being shut for so long, I manage to get them all the way open. I look around and find myself on my sleeping bag in my tent back at camp. I try to sit up, but I'm weak from not eating and sore from my tussle with the walkers, meaning that I can only go up inch by inch as slow as an old man. Once I'm upright, I turn to see Daryl sitting beside the tent door at my feet, cleaning his crossbow

"What in the name of God fucking happened?" .

He glances up and sits down his crossbow, bending over so that his elbows rested on his knees.

"Well after ya' through yer lil' hissy fit over me killin' that rabbit in front a Carl, I gutted the damn thing, skinned it, and followed after ya. I followed yer tracks from there to the crick bed, I was 'bout 200 hundred yards away when I heard ya' yell at the fuckers ta' come after ya'. I ran ta' the bed jus' in time ta' hear ya' scream before I shot that massive motherfucker in the head. You seemed alright for a few seconds, even gave me a smile, but then ya' just hit the ground hard. I ran over ta' ya' and that's when I found Carl in the tree with ya' under it. I flung ya' over my shoulder and brought ya' back ta' camp. You been out since."

"How long?"

"Three days."

"Jesus H. Christ, you been sitting there this whole time?"

"Ya' think this is some kinda ooey, gooey, girly movie, Lil' Miss? No I ain't been here the whole damn time, I got shit ta' do 'round here. All of us been takin' turns sittin' in here with ya', makin' sure ya' git enough water in ya' and don't die."

"Sorry I tried to make you out to be a knight in shining, white amour, Redneck. Now how about helping me get the hell up off the floor so I can go out and get some food?"

"Only if ya' ask nicely, Lil' Miss."

"Help me up off this god damn floor before I shove my foot so far up your ass you'd be untying my shoe laces from your fucking tonsils."

"Remind me ta' never not give ya' food…" he mumbles before standing up and extending a hand out to me.

I grab on and try to hoist myself up, but I physically just can't do it. I try again, pulling with every ounce of energy I have, and manage to stand upright. I let go of Daryl and take a few steps, but stumble and latch back onto his arm. Without a word, he holds his arm out and I loop mine through, like a proper lord and lady, and we make our way out. The going is slow, since I've not eaten nor moved in three days, but I don't hear one complaint from Daryl, which is a nice surprise to say the least. After a good 10 minutes I find my way to the camp center, where everyone is eating lunch. No one notices that Daryl and I have been walking over til we're a few feet away, which is when Dale looks over and smiles.

"Rose…you're up! Lori, give the girl some food, she looks like she's about to fall over."

I sit down on a log and Lori brings me a plate full of squirrel stew, which I shove down my throat in less than 5 minutes. The group kindly allows me to eat another plate full, which is not something to be taken lightly. Once I have literally licked the plate clean, I sit back and look around at everyone eating lunch. I cock my head to the side for a second and begin counting.

_One, two, three…twelve, thirteen…wait, there was a hell of a lot more people than this, I know that for sure…where the fuck have they gone?_

"Hold on a second, where's Glenn? And Andrea? Merle? Nobody misses a meal around here…"

"You're head wound made us use the last of our medical supplies, so the rest of them went into the city to go scavenge some more up for us. It's only a few hours for a trip, so they should be back sometime soon." says Shane, who was seated three seats to the right of me.

I nod my head, and sit there as everyone else finishes their meals. Finally everyone is done, and the food I ate has given me enough strength to be able to walk back to my tent without Daryl's strength to hold me up. I get up to go to my tent when I feel someone grab my hand. I turn around and look down to find Carl tugging on me.

"Can I talk to you?" he asks, voice quivering with fear for some weird reason.

"Of course Little Man, follow me."

We make our way to my tent and once inside, he and I sit down on my sleeping bag.

"Now, what's up?"

"I just…I'm sorry for making you get hurt in the woods! If I hadn't been there, you would…you w-wouldn't have g-g-gotten so hurt…and this is…it's all m-my f-f-fault. I'm so s-s-sorry Rose. I d-didn't m-m-mean to!" He sputters out, tears filling up his brown eyes.

As if out of instinct, I reach across and pull him into a hug, rocking and shushing him as he cries. Not knowing what else to do, I start to sing a lullaby to Carl (and yes, it was kind of silly to be singing a lullaby to a 12-year-old, but the kid was upset and I didn't know what else to do!) Quietly, I start to sing the lyrics to Baby Mine from Dumbo, you know, the one where his mom is in the cart after they claim she's a "mad elephant" and Dumbo comes to visit late in the night,

**Baby mine, don't you cry**  
**Baby mine, dry your eyes**  
**Rest your head close to my heart**  
**Never to part, baby of mine.**

**Little one when you play**  
**Pay no heed what they say**  
**Let your eyes sparkle and shine**  
**Never a tear, baby of mine.**

**If they knew all about you**  
**They'd end up loving you too**  
**All those same people who scold you**  
**What they'd give just for**  
**The chance to hold you.**

**From your head to your toes**  
**You're not much, goodness knows**  
**But you're so precious to me**  
**Sweet as can be, baby of mine**

Once he has finally calmed down enough to stop besides a few sniffles here and there, I pull him away from my chest and look him in the eye.

"Carl, it wasn't your fault I got hurt. If anything, I should be apologizing to you. I was the grown up in that situation, and because I got angry with Daryl, I decided to run off without him and put us both in danger, which was a horrible thing to do. I not only put my own life at risk, but your's and Daryl's as well, and I am truly sorry that I did something like that to you. Nobody your age should have to endure something like that, but my actions forced you to be put in that situation, and I will never forgive myself for making you to go through that. But Carl, I promise you, no one blames you for what happened to me, and don't keep trying to blame yourself for something that was out of your control. You're 12 bud, you shouldn't have to feel guilty for something like that. Plus, I'm alive and you're alive, which is all that matters, so everything is ok, ok?"

"But…but…"

"No 'buts' about it, you and I and Daryl are safe and sound and we've all learned something from our experience."

"Ok, I guess…but ummm, Rose? Can I talk to you about something else?"

"You can always talk to me about anything."

"Well…I'm scared to tell you this…it's…it's about Sophia."

"Don't be scared Little Man, no one and nothing can hurt you, no matter what you tell me."

"Pinky swear?" he asks, extending his finger into the space between the two of us. I smile and wrap my pinky around his.

"Pinky swear."

"Ok…well, me and Sophia were talking yesterday, and she told me…she told me that he dad does weird things to her."

"Weird things? Like what?"

"Like…like touches her…in places that…that shouldn't be touched."

For a few moments I get confused and have to pause to try and figure out what exactly he is telling me. After a few seconds though, it dawns on me that Carl is trying to tell me that Ed has molested Sophia, or at least tried to. I grip Carl by the shoulders and force him to look me in the eye.

"Carl, I would never call you a liar in a million years, but are you telling me the truth? Sophia said those exact words, more or less?"

"Yes, and I wouldn't ever lie about something like that. You believe me, right?"

"Yes, I believe you. You did the right thing Carl by coming to me and telling me about this. You and I both care about Sophia and telling someone about this adult problem was very smart of you to do. I promise you I will take care of it and make sure that Sophia's dad never, ever touches her like that ever again, ok?"

"Thank you Rose…I knew you would be able to do something." He says, throwing his hands around me in a hug. I squeeze him back as tight as I can and pull him away. I want to talk to him more, but we both suddenly hear Lori yelling his name.

"CARL? CARL!"

"Come on, can't let you get in trouble." I say, standing up as I put my arm around his shoulders and guide him out of my tent.


	11. Chapter 11

We find Lori at the camp's center with a pair of scissors in one hand with the other on her forehead, looking around for Carl. She spots us when we're about 100 yards away and smiles, giving a small wave. Carl, who seems to be happier since telling me everything, runs off and greets his mom with a hug.

"Hi Mom!

"Hi Carl, ready for your haircut?"

"Ugh, do I have to? I hate it."

"Yes, and no backtalk, now go over there and sit by Shane, I want to talk to Rose for a moment."

Carl turns away from the two of us and slouches off in the other direction as Lori turns her attention to me. Before she gets the chance to speak though, I cut her off.

"Look, Lori, you have no idea how sorry I am for the danger that I put Carl in. It was stupid and reckless and I almost got both of us killed. I shouldn't have let my emotions get in the way of your son's safety and it was stupid and reckless and I'm a horrible person and if you never want me to talk to you or Carl I under—"

I'm cut off by Lori hugging me. I freeze for a few seconds before retunring it.

"I wanted to say thank you. You protected Carl from 4 different walkers, and even though you were the reason he was put in that situation, you also made sure that my son was safe, and that's all I could ever ask for."

I pull away and look at Lori.

"I would have never let Carl be taken by some geek. I told you, he's just like my little brother, and I really do care about him."

Lori lets go of me and shrugs her shoulder, which I guess is the closest I will ever get to an apology from her for questioning my intentions. I give a smile and head back to my tent. When I make it there though, Daryl is sitting outside of the door, lounging around and waiting for me. I cock an eyebrow as I make my way closer.

"Ummm, hi? Need something?"

"Merle went with them out ta' the city 'n I need someone ta' go squirrel huntin' with me."

"I just woke up from a coma that I was in for 3 days, and you want me to go trekking around the woods with you for a few rodents? Are you serious?"

He stands up and starts walking away, "Fine, don' go."

I watch as he wanders away for a few seconds before grabbing my bow and arrows from the tent and jogging to catch up to him.

"Redneck, if I die doing this with you, I swear to God I'll come back and haunt your ass for the rest of your life."

"Rite back at ya', Lil' Miss." He says with a smirk.

The two of us head out and for the next couple of hours we stake out some trees that seem to have plenty of squirrels running up and down them. We find a small embankment about 70 feet away and lie down in it, crossbow and bow aimed and ready to fire. Not being a person who can just sit there and wait though, I decide to make the hunt more fun.

"Hey Redneck." I say in a low whisper, "Want to make this a bit more…interesting?"

He cocks an eyebrow and just looks at me.

"Thing is interestin' enough rite now, so no. Now shut yer yapper 'fore you scare all the squirrels off."

I sigh as my shoulders slump, slightly disappointed with my lips in a pout.

"Oh come on, hunting by itself can be awfully boring. Just sitting here and waiting and waiting and more waiting followed by even MORE waiting, it sucks and don't you try to deny it either."

"What about shut yer damn pie hole do ya' NOT git?"

"I just…I have to do something or I'll go crazy. Why don't we have a competition between the two of us? Whoever kills more squirrels wins."

"Wins what?"

"I don't know…what's something you want?"

"Fer ya' to shut up."

I glare at him over at him,

"Ha ha, very funny. Now answer me seriously."

"Fine, ya' crazy woman… give me a minute ta' think.

After a few seconds he looks over at me, a devilish gleam prancing merrily in his eyes.

"If I win, ya' stay here with me, and the rest of us at camp, and that means ya' give yer guns and food up fer all of us ta' share."

I'm taken aback, not realizing that we were putting something like that up at stake. I was expecting to hear like, "Ya' clean my crossbow fer me." Or "Me and Merle git yer tent." Not my freedom and weapons. All the humor of my game feels like it's been sucked out of the air, and I blankly stare at him. I considering calling off the game, but my pride and competitiveness refuse to let me.

"Fine. But if I win…I get not only your crossbow and its bolts, but your hunting knife as well. Mine's a bit too dull for my taste." I whisper, spitting on my hand and pushing it towards him.

He looks at me for a second before a grin plays across his mouth as he spits on his hand and shakes.

"Ready ta' lose, Lil' Miss?"

"In your dreams, Redneck, and by the way," I say, grinning as I quickly fire off an arrow and hit a squirrel that was scurrying along in the leaves. "One."

Over the next hour, the two of us fire off as many arrows and bolts as we can, each not wanting to lose what it most precious to us. By the time we're finished, both of us are out of ammo and out of breathe. We hurriedly climb out of the embankment and search around for the squirrels with our arrows sticking out of them. After gathering them all up, we each walk over to the center and start to count ours in front of the other person, to ensure that neither of us is cheating of course. I go first,

"1, 2, 3, 4, 5, 6, 7, 8, 9, 10, 11, 12, 13." I say, dropping each one to the ground in front of us, so they pile up at our feet. "Your turn, Redneck."

"1, 2, 3, 4, 5, 6, 7, 8, 9, 10, 11, 12, 13…14. Guess I win Lil' Miss."

I stare at his mound of squirrels and feel my feet drop out from under me. I look up at him, wide-eyed and completely distraught. I have nothing to say, I can't even fathom anything to say. I just stare as he bends over and ties all of them to a rope before turning to leave.

"Come on." He says, and I follow, mind and body still numb to the fact that I lost.

We walk for about 15 minutes Daryl break checks in front of me. I slam into his back and bounce backwards, momentarily losing my balance. He turns and I give him the best "What the fuck are you doing?" face, but he just silently puts a finger to his lips and points to our right. About 200 yards out, there stands a doe, just sitting and chopping on some grass. Daryl raises his crossbow and shoots the poor thing, but he misses the heart by four inches. It jumps and runs another hundred yards. Out of instinct, I raise my bow and fire off an arrow, but the deer is so far away now that I can't tell where exactly I hit it. The two us search around for the blood trail and follow it. While we're searching, my mind seems to have finally wrapped around the idea that I lost my bet, and I feel anger boiling, not at Daryl, but myself.

_How fucking stupid am I?! I let my smugness get in the fucking way and now I'm fucking stuck with Daryl motherfucking Dixon for God knows how long! It's total bullshittery, and if all my shit wasn't set up back at the motherfucking camp site, I would just fucking leave. But no, I had to be the dumbass that left all her food and weapons back with complete strangers! For fucks sake, how have I survived as long as I have, because it clearly is not because I'm intelligent or strategic!_

My thoughts end up getting me so worked up, that when Daryl pauses for a second to try and find the next splatter of blood, I whirl around and punch a tree. When my fist lands on the bark, I hear a crack and let out a loud grunting moan of rage. Daryl whirls around to find me, breathing heavy with blood running down the front of my hand.

"What?" I ask, my voice dangerously low as I try to burn holes into his head with my eyes.

"If ya' don' keep quiet, I'm gonna have ta' gag ya'." He says, as he turns and continues walking.

I glower as he walks away before unwillingly sauntering after. The pain in my knuckles finally seems to take effect and it's screaming through my whole body, but I refuse to acknowledge that it's there. It's almost like the punishment I get for being so incredibly dense and overconfident.


	12. Chapter 12

For the next four hours we search for the deer in utter silence, but we've somehow managed to lose the trail just enough to make her difficult to find, yet not impossible enough to stop searching. The two of us must have been so engrossed with locating her that we don't realize how quickly night is approaching until the light of the day begins to quickly fade to black. I turn to Daryl, who is looking up at the purple sky.

"We'll never make it back."

"Then we set up camp here."

"Well I don't know about you, but I'm sleeping in the trees. Walkers can't climb" I say as I jump and latch onto an oak tree. I feel pain shooting through my hand, forgetting that I had punched a tree earlier and probably cracked my middle knuckle, and for a second I lose my grip. I take in a few deep breathes and fight through it though, pulling myself upwards into the branches. I get about halfway up when I hear a grunt and a thud. I pause on the branch I was climbing and look down to see Daryl was trying to make his way up the next tree over, but managed to fall right on his ass. I watch as he runs at the tree and tries again, only to have the branch snap at him, causing him to fall again, a low grunt escaping his lips. I give a breathy giggle before making my way down to the lowest branch, sitting on it with my feet swinging like a fourth grader.

"Being beaten by a tree, Redneck?"

He just stares upwards at me, before running at the tree again and with a mighty heave, only to get stuck and drop to his feet. I sigh and look down at Daryl.

"You're going to fast, you keep running at it that hard and you'll lose before you even start. Plus your crossbow is weighing you down, unclip it and use a rope to string it up over the branch of another tree. That way it'll be safe, we can cut it down in the morning, and you can climb upwards before the walkers hear you."

"I don't need yer help." He says, barreling towards the tree once again, grabbing hold of a branch, and this time, successfully hoisting himself up. "See?"

I watch as he continues to lumber up a few more branches, and I follow him up from my tree, watching to make sure he doesn't do anything stupid, because the last thing I need is to have to go back to the camp and tell Merle that Daryl died climbing a tree. I'm sure that would turn out just peachy. I must have been distracted by my own thoughts because I look over and see that Daryl is grabbing onto a branch that is much too thin for his weight.

"Daryl!" I yell, but he's already placed his full weight on the branch and it starts to crack.

"Fucking hell!" he mutters, scrambling around as he realizes that he's currently in way over his head and completely fucked. The more he moves though, the more splintering I hear from the branch.

"DON'T MOVE!" I yell and, surprisingly, he stops his wiggling, "If you keep moving like that, you'll snap the branch and fall."

"Then what the hell am I supposed ta' do?!"

"Just…just wait and let me come over and I'll figure something out."

I stick my bow into my arrows' holder and hook it onto the branch. I crawl down a few branches until I find the branch Daryl jumped from to get to the one he is currently dangling from. As I make my way out on the branch, I realize that there is no way to merely step from one branch to the other, and that I'm going to have to jump. Recalling my old gymnastic days, where my trainer made me leap from balance beam to balance beam in order to get me comfortable enough to flip on them, I run as far out on the branch as I can and launch myself to the other tree. I land far enough in to support my weight, but momentarily lose my balance. I stumble a few feet before my body slams down onto the limb. My head bounces off of it, and the scabbed over wound from the fight with the walker from a few days ago busts back open and blood starts pouring on my face. Blinking a few times to make the world stop being so spinny, I lay there for a few seconds and wipe my eyes, trying to clear away as much red as I can. Once I'm able to see through the blood, I right myself. I look up and try to find some way out of this mess.

"You got a rope on you?"

"There's one in my pocket."

"Anyway you can get to it."

"My plate's kinda full rite now!"

"Jesus Christ, fine, wait a second!"

"I AIN'T GOT A SECOND!"

I shake my head and ignore his comment as I move my way right so that I up against the body of the tree. I feel around and find a few knots in the bark and use them to climb up until I'm up on the branch Daryl's clinging on to. I scoot out and swing myself so that I'm hanging sloth style and slowly climb out. Suddenly, when the branch gives a violent lurch and I stop moving. Realizing that my short time to save Daryl is running out, I scurry out as fast I can. I throw my hand into his pocket and pull out a length of rope. As quickly as I can manage, I make my way back to the tree's trunk and shimmy my way downwards. I hurriedly secure the rope around the branch I'm standing on and make my way over to Daryl. The only part of his body I can reach are his legs below the knee, so I quickly take the other end of the rope and knot it was tightly as I can around the middle of his right calve. After making sure everything is as safe as it can be, I start to tell Daryl what to do.

"Daryl, as carefully as you can, make your way right towards the body of the tree, it should be more stable there."

"Ain't no way I'm gonna make it there, the whole fuckin' branch'll snap and then I'm gonna fall and be some walker's lunch. Try again Lil' Miss."

"You aren't going to fall; I tied you to the tree. You fall, you're just going to end up dangling upside down, and then I'll pull you up."

"Ain't no way I'm gon—"

"DARYL! We haven't got time to argue about this, so I need you to trust me. Now climb over."

For a good 5 minutes Daryl doesn't move an inch, and I'm about ready to yell at him when he finally starts to slowly make his way out. He gets about half way across when the inevitably happens, and the branch breaks. I hear Daryl shout, but just as I said, he only falls a short bit before the rope snaps taunt and catches him. For a few seconds there is not a sound in the whole forest, but that silence is soon broken by Daryl,

"Are you gonna come help me or not?!"

I scramble out to where he's dangling and lay down on the branch, extending my arm outwards. Daryl swings himself into a sit up and catches a hold of my hand. With every bit of strength I can muster, I pull him up until he is finally able to grab hold of the branch and pull himself up the rest of the way. He collapses down on the branch as I lean against the trunk, each of us taking a moment to catch our breath,

"Told you it would catch you."

"Shut up. Yer the reason I fucking fell."

"Do not EVEN try and blame this on me! If you had just listened to me, I bet you would have made it up fine and not made me come over here and save your ass!"

He doesn't reply, just gets up and starts jumping down the tree branches, making his way to the bottom. I stare after him, mouth agape with shock.

_How fucking dare he! I saved that asshole's life and now he won't even let his male pride down enough to tell me thank you…what a dick hole. I swear to God, I know I've thought it a million times, but I'm going to wrap my pretty little hands around his throat and choke him to death. And then I'll bring him back to life and kill him again!_

Too exhausted to be angry tonight, I pick my jaw up off the floor, untie the rope from the branch, and make my way back across to the tree I was originally in. I sit down on the one where I hung my bow and arrows, tie myself down so I don't fall in my sleep, and lean back against the trunk. In no time at all, I'm out like a light.

I wake to dawn shinning bright and early on my face, and I squint as the bright, yellow sunlight hits my eyes. I stretch upwards, and look around, confused to why I'm in a tree. Then I remember that I had to save Mr. Asshole himself from falling to his death and all the events from the previous night come rushing back. I sit back and watch the bright colors of the day emerge, wanting to just stay there and revel in the beauty and quiet of nature. I know that I can't though, so after one last glance, I untie myself from the tree, grab my bow, and climb down. At first glance around, I can't find Daryl, and a tiny bubble of panic rises in my chest. My mind starts to kick into overdrive and suddenly I'm imagining every horrible scenario that could or may have happened to Daryl,

_Oh fuck…what if he climbed down last night and a bunch of walkers passed by after I went to sleep and they took him?! Or maybe he had to go to the bathroom and didn't see a ravine and fell into it! What if he tried to go find that deer last night by himself and stumbled and broke his leg! Oh Jesus H. Christ, I hope he's ok…if not, and then it's all my fault. _

_Whoa, whoa, whoa! Calm down Rose, calm down! Take a deep breath…and another…good. Ok, let's be rational. If there had been walkers, he would have called up and you would have heard him, so the first idea wouldn't have happened. You didn't see a ravine walking in, so why would Daryl walk near one when going to take a piss? That's right, he wouldn't…he would have probably just gone on the tree you're sleeping in and went back to sleep. Third, Daryl is a tracker at heart, so he wouldn't have been so stupid enough to try and run off and find a deer in the dark without the proper equipment. So calm your tits the fuck down and be logical._

Knowing that my inner voice is right, I search around for 30 minutes trying to find where the hell Daryl wondered off to. I eventually make my way back to the area where I started, sitting down and trying to think of what the fuck to do. I mean, I couldn't just leave. I know he's been an asshole, and nobody would blame me if I gave him a taste of his own medicine, but I just fucking can't, no matter how much I really want to. As I sit there thinking, I swear I hear a faint snoring. I stop and really listen…and I hear it again. I jump up and look around, trying to figure out where exactly the noise is coming from. After 10 minutes of searching on the ground, it dons on me to look up, and I find Daryl lying on his back on the lowest tree branch, softly snoring away. Knowing that it's best we be on our way as soon as possible, I make my way up to the part of the branch that is closest to the trunk, and gently shake his leg.

"Daryl? Come on, we have to go."

He shifts around a little, but he doesn't wake, just mutters and grunts before falling back to sleep. I inch closer to him, until I'm between his thighs and grab his biceps, shaking him a bit more violently.

"Daryl!"

His eyes fly open and he comes rushing upwards, causing his forehead and mine to collide. I fall backwards and grab my head, moaning as I do.

"Ouch, god dammit Daryl!"

"Fucking fucker! What?! Yer the one that woke me! Ain't my fault that I didn' no you was gonna be rite there."

"Fair enough, my fault." I say, not wanting to fight about it, though I could argue that most men do not fly up that quickly from sleeping, "Come on, I want to find this doe and get back."

I turn to leave, but Daryl grabs me and turns me back around.  
"Why ya' got blood all on yer head?"

"What the hell ar—oh. Last night I fell and busted the wound from falling on the rock when I was dealing with the massive ass geek back open, and I was so worried about making sure you didn't fall that I just…forgot about it."

"C'mere." He says, reaching on to his belt and pulling out his canteen. He grabs the lower part of his shirt, splashes some of the water from his bottle on it, and dabs away all the dried blood from my forehead.

_Now I'm really confused…one second he hates me, the next he's gently wiping the dried blood from my face…what the fuck? This man has got to be one of the most confusing ass motherfuckers I've ever dealt with, and I've worked with Schizophrenia patients before! Something else is going on inside of this guy, and I'm going to figure it out._

Once he's finished, he clips the canteen back onto his belt and hops off the branch, landing with a soft crunch. He then turns and holds out his arms to me, offering to help me jump down. I cock an eyebrow, really freaking confused as to what in the hell is going on…since when did Daryl Dixon offer to help someone who was at a disadvantage? Despite the bewilderment, I accept his offer. I lower myself off the branch and into his arms, letting him drop me to the ground with my back to him. I turn around, about to ask him what the hell that was all about, but he's already up and searching for the trail the doe left. I sigh and follow after, knowing that even if I were to ask, I probably wouldn't have gotten a straight answer out of him anyway.


	13. Chapter 13

I follow after, and soon enough we find dried blood on a tree, along with tracks and broken sticks on the ground. As we hike around, finding more and more evidence suggesting that we're getting close to the dead deer, I keep trying to think of ways to ask Daryl what exactly is going on, but with him…well there really isn't a good way to bring anything up, since it's hard to say whether you'd get a big 'fuck off' or a crossbow bolt to the head. As I get lost in my own head, which you can see happens more often than not, a shriek pierces the morning air from about ¼ mile off. Both of us end up stopping and listening for a second, only to hear another set of screams. The two of us glance over at each other before dashing off in the direction of the cries. As we get closer, now I start to hear grunts and cries, causing me to pull out my bow, and Daryl to draw a pistol, which I didn't know he even had.

We slow down and enter a clearing, where we find Dale, Andrea, Amy, Shane, Jim, Morales, Glenn, and some mysterious, new stranger, huddled around headless walker and our doe. I drop my bow and walk closer, finding that this walker has been chowing down on the deer we've been tracking since yesterday afternoon. I let out a frustrated cry, turning back to Daryl.

"God dammit, the fucking walker ate our deer, it's no fucking good now."

Daryl comes up behind me and I can almost see the rage building up behind his eyes.

"Son of a bitch. That's our deer! Look at it. All gnawed on by this…Filthy. Disease-baring. Motherless. Poxy. Bastard!" he shouts, kicking it between each insult. I roll my eyes, coming to the conclusion that Daryl doesn't like to take his anger out in the most productive way…he'd rather just beat the shit out of the closest object that won't hit back. Dale steps out, trying to bring Daryl down from his rage high,

"Calm down, son. That's not helping."

I mentally face palm and desperately wish I could have stopped Dale from trying to calm Daryl down, because there is no such thing as calming him down. I can practically taste the testosterone seep into the air as Daryl steps away from the carcass, obviously feeling threatened, and right up into Dale's face,

"What do ya' know about it, old man? Why don't ya' take that stupid hat and go back to On Golden Pond?"

Dale sighs, as if use to the abuse that is spewing out of Daryl's mouth, but he doesn't back down. I shake my head and step between the two, not ready to see them rip each other to shreds.

"Now girls, girls, you're both pretty." I say, pushing them both back a step so that they're not right in each other's faces, "Daryl's just mad because we've been tracking this deer for miles. We were going to drag it back to camp and cook up some more venison stew. Think we can cut around the chewed up bits, Shane?" I ask, turning towards him.

"I would not risk that."

"Fine, guess it's maggot food now."

"That's a damn shame. We picked up some squirrel while we was out, about two dozen or so. That'll have to do."

Out of nowhere, the head of the walker starts to gash and smash its teeth together, desperately chopping around to try and grab a bite of someone's leg. Reminds me of the Black Knight from Monty Python and the Search for the Holy Grail… 'Tis but a scratch!'…see what I mean by I spend too much time in my own head?

"Oh god!" I hear Amy squeak from behind the bush, clinging onto Andrea who looks like she's about to vomit. The two quickly walk off, and I can't blame them. The first time you see a walker die, it's pretty horrific, and revolting to put it mildly. Daryl looks over and shakes his head,

"Come on people, what the hell?" he says, raising his crossbow up and shooting a bolt into the geek's eye, causing the head to stop flopping around like a fish out of water. He strolls over and yanks the bolt out, wiping off the brain goo on his pants,

"It's gotta be the brain, "Don't y'all know nothin'?"

He pushes his way through the group and starts off back to camp. Everyone seems quick to follow after, like something urgent is going on. I cock and eyebrow and catch up to Dale, talking as we go.

"You alright?"

"Yeah, fine."

"I'll apologize on his behalf; we just had a rough night is all. He tried to climb a tree and I had to go after him and save him. Think it hurt his ego a bit... So I see the group made it back safe and sound...plus an extra, who's Tall and Lanky?"

"Name's Rick, he's Lori's husband and Carl's father."

"What?! I thought…but Shane…ok, whatever, stranger things have happened. Well, I'm pooped Dale, so I'm going to go back to my tent. Plus, I'd like to see as little of Merle Dixon as I possibly can."

"Umm, Rose, you might wanna stay here for a second." Dale says, grabbing my arm as we enter into the center of camp, where Daryl is yelling Merle's name and telling him to get his ugly ass out there so they can skin and cook the squirrels we killed.

"Why?"

"Because you may have to shoot Daryl."

I look up at him, face contorted into 'What the fuck are you talking about?' He just nods his head up to Shane and Daryl's little conversation and I start listening to Shane speak,

"About Merle. There was a… There was a problem in Atlanta."

Daryl freezes and turns to him,

"He dead?"

Shane rubs his hand down his face and across his chin before throwing his hand up in desperation,

"We don't know."

"He either is or he ain't!"

Tall and Lanky steps forward and now he's in the conversation too,

"No easy way to say this, so I'll just say it."

Daryl turns to him,

"Who are you?"

"Rick Grimes"

"Rick grimes, you got something you want to tell me?" Daryl threatens, stepping up to show that he is neither afraid nor intimidated…I swear men do the most primeval things when they feel like their manliness is being put to the test. Rick seems unimpressed though, and just stands there with the most uninterested, stone faced expression.

"Your brother was a danger to us all, so I handcuffed him on a roof, hooked him to a piece of metal. He's still there."

My eyes grow three times the size they were, and I turn to Dale who looks over and shrugs his shoulders. I turn back and find Daryl pacing around like a mad dog, ready to kill something, someone…anything that just happened to step in his line of view at the second.

"Hold on, HOLD ON. Let me process this…yer saying ya' handcuffed my brother ta' the roof and ya' left him there?!"

"Yeah."

The next few moments seem to happen in an instant, as Daryl runs up and pushes Rick, ready and rearing to fight. I run over and latch on to Daryl's arm, trying to hold him back.

"Daryl! Calm the fuck down!"

But he just shoves me onto my ass with ease, and pulls a knife out of his pocket. T-Dogg, who must have been collecting firewood, is walking over from behind and shouts,

"Hey! Watch the knife!"

I hit the deck as Daryl brings his arm back, nearly slashing my face in the process, and tries to cut Rick with it, who dodges it with a practiced ease. By that time, Shane has made his way behind Daryl and swings his arms under Daryl's and interlocks his fingers behind his head, placing him in a choke hold. Daryl struggles to get out, but Shane has obviously been trained to do this and the two end up falling to the ground beside of me, rolling around in the dirt and dust. I scramble up, not wanting to get in the way of the two nimrods fighting like a bunch of 3-year-olds.

"Ya' best let me go!" Daryl manages to yell in a strangled voice, still wiggling around to try and break Shane's hold on him.

"Nah…I think…it's better…if I don't"

"Choke hold's illegal!"

"You can file a complaint. Come on, man. We'll keep this up all day."

"Daryl, quit being a little shit and just calm yourself down for a fucking second!" I say, crouching down so I can look him in the eye, "You're allowed to be pissed as fuck, but quit trying to kill everything in living sight for a god damn second and let them talk."

"Why should I?!"

"Because you are not in a position to negotiate."

Daryl looks up at me, eyes full of defiance, but he finally seems to realize that he is not going to win this particular fight, and stops moving. I stand back up and from behind me, Rick starts to speak again,

"I'd like to have a calm discussion on this topic. Do you think we can manage that?"

All eyes turn on Daryl, who is staring daggers into Rick's face, but he manages to mutter out a gritted "Yes." Shane lets go and the two stand up, dusting themselves off. Daryl walks right up to Rick, chest puffed and hairs bristled, daring him to find a good reason to say why he handcuffed Merle to a roof in the middle the most densely populated walker area in all of Georgia.

"What I did was not on a whim. Your brother does not work and play well with others."

If the situation had not been as tense as it was, I would have walked over and given this Rick guy a handshake, because he obviously only just met Merle, yet he had pegged his personality and demeanor in a single sentence.

"It's not Rick's fault. I had the key. I dropped it." T-Dogg says, stepping up so that he is beside the two. Daryl's anger quickly shifts from Rick to T-Dogg, eyes glaring at the poor man.

"Ya' couldn't pick it up?!"

"Well…I…I dropped it down a drain."

Daryl's eyes widen and I see his arm lift, ready to knock T-Dogg's lights out. I quickly step up beside them and stare at Daryl, warning him that it's a bad idea to try. Not taking his eyes off of me, he slowly lowers his fist and turns his attention back to T-Dogg,

"If it's supposed to make me feel better, it don't."

"Well, maybe this will. Look, I chained the door to the roof… So the geeks couldn't get at him… With a padlock. It's gotta count for something."

That seems to be the crack that open's the flood gates, because suddenly Daryl is no longer trying to be calm and collected; he's just letting that river of anger rage free on whoever happens to be nearby

"Hell with all y'all!" he screams, turning around and storming off in the direction of his and Merle's tent


	14. Chapter 14

I don't want to have to go after Daryl, but I know that I can't just let someone go run off after something so traumatic. People do crazy, stupid shit when they're unbelievably angry, and as much as Daryl can piss me the hell off, I still don't want him dead. I make it to the two person tent. The door is zipped up, but the screen part is up, so I can see in, and find him packing a bunch of weapons in a bag.

"Daryl…"

"What the fuck do you want?"

"I just came over to make sure you were ok."

"I don' need ya' ta' check up on me. I ain't no sissy faggot."

I bite the inside of my cheek, holding back the urge to beat his face in with a mallet over saying such degrading stuff, reminding myself that this man was just told that his brother was basically left on a roof to be eaten alive. I take a deep breath and unzip the tent door, making my way inside to try and continue talking to him. I gingerly step my way towards him,

"Daryl, now you obviously are not a talker."

"No shit."

"But…but when shit like this goes down everyone needs to vent. And that's what I'm here for, I'm here to listen."

"I ain't going to buy into none of yer mumbo jumbo mind shit! Now git the fuck out of my tent!"

My temper flares and I feel my ridiculous and self-righteous side start to rear its ugly head.

_Fine, he wants to play it this way, we can do this all day. He just better watch, because he's messing with a girl who knows who to bend the rules to her will._

I stride over and step in between Daryl and the shit he's throwing into his bag, stopping him cold.

"No."

He stares at me in shock for a few seconds, as if no one has ever dared disobeyed him when he's yelled at them to do something, and then I practically feel the rage inside of him rise.

"What the fuck did you just say to me you smug, uptight, slut fucker?!"

"I said no. You're irrational and angry and you need to let it out before you fucking kill someone for no reason! So I'm not leaving this god damn spot until I see that you've gotten control of your emotions and calmed the fuck down!" I yell.

Daryl's breathing suddenly increases tenfold and before I know what's happening, he brings his fist back and hits me square on the cheek. My head snaps to the side and pain shoots through my face. I stumble back and fall into the tent wall, mind disoriented and trying to bounce back as quickly as it can. All of these dangerous head bumps; I swear that I'm going to end up dying of a brain trauma before any walker has the chance to nibble at my bones. As the world keeps trying to get back to normal, Daryl walks over and I prepare myself for more blows, but before they can rain down on me, Shane walks in the tent. He looks at the situation and immediately starts to run after Daryl. Before he can though, I throw my palm up at him, telling him to not get any closer. Shane stops in his tracks and I look up at Daryl,

"Feel better?"

He silently nods his head, stepping away so I can stand up. I stagger up, the pain in my cheek radiating out to the rest of my body now, and look him right in the eye.

"Good. Now don't you ever fucking try and do that again, otherwise I will cut your balls off with a rusty knife and feed them to a bear. Now that you've calmed down, what the fuck are you packing all your shit for."

"I'm going to git Merle."

"Well then you're taking me with you."

"Like hell I am."

"And like hell I'm letting you go out there alone. You're headed into the most populated walker zone in all of fucking Georgia and your backwoods dumbass brain thinks that I'm just going to let you go in and die by yourself?! It'll be a cold day in hell when that happens, Redneck."

"Why the fuck would you come with me!"

"For one thing, I've saved your ass at least 3 times since I met you, and I'm not letting my arrows and hard work go to waste so you can save your dick head of a brother! And…well…because maybe I just give two shits about whether or not you live Dumbass!"

That stops Daryl cold, and he just stares at me, as if trying to tell whether or not me saying that I cared about him was a lie. To be completely honest, I'm just as shocked as he is. I just said that I cared about Daryl Dixon…which is weird. I mean, I've known the guy for all of 5 days and now I'm risking my life to go help him save his creepy-ass, misogynistic brother…what the fuck has gotten into me! It's like someone picked me up and dropped my ass into a Nicholas Sparks book. Shane clears his throat and the two of us spin around, forgetting that he was even there.

"Rick wants to talk to y'all."

Daryl grabs his bag and stomps out of the tent with me hot on his heels. We make it back to the camp's center, finding Rick talking with Lori. He looks up, ending his conversation with her and walking right over to us.

"I'm going back…to get Merle."

"What! So that's it huh? You just going to up and leave, to hell with the rest of us?" Shane says, making his way into our little circle.

"I left Merle there to die, and now I realize how big of a mistake that was. I can't just leave a living man chained to a roof, waiting to either die of dehydration or get eaten alive. It just isn't right Shane!"

"But why are you risking your life for a douchebag like Merle Dixon!"

"Hey! Choose your words more carefully." Daryl says, casting a glare over at Shane.

"Oh I did, douchebag is what I meant. Merle Dixon wouldn't give you a glass of water if you were dying of thirst."

"I don't care what he would or wouldn't do; I'm not leaving him up there like a wild animal caught in a trap!"

"So you and Daryl, that's how you're going to solve this? Just the two of you going?!" Lori asks, now forcing her way into the circle. Rick doesn't react, just turns and looks at Glenn, who was watching with Dale and Jim from the side of the RV.

"Oh god, come on. Why me?"

"Because you've been in and out with no problems. You know the area better than anyone else, you said so yourself. Plus I'm sure everyone here would feel better if you went."

Glenn just huffs and mumbles something that sounded like "fine.", but he certainly doesn't look happy about it. Shane looks exasperated, throwing his hands in the air and looking over at Rick

"So now you're risking three men?"

"Four," T-Dogg says, walking over to stand by me, "I dropped the key, it's my fault he's still up there."

"Great, just great…my day keeps gittin' better and better." Daryl sneers, staring at T-Dogg with a fixed glare.

"What? I don't see anyone else stepping up to save your brother's cracker ass."

"Ahem…That would be four men and a woman…I'm going too." I say, causing everyone to look over and down at me, "

"No." Shane says. I stare up at him, not backing down.

"Excuse me? There is no way in hell that I'm letting you, order me around. I'm one of the best damn shots this place has got; you even said my bow skills were impressive. Or have you forgotten the fact that I saved your ass a few days ago from that pack of walkers that attacked you?" I ask, stepping up and looking Shane in the eye. He stares down, but I can already see the defeat starting to spark in his eyes,

"Rose…"

"Didn't think so, and this lot is heading straight into the Walker Central, so they need all the help they can get. Merle is an asshole, I'm not denying that, but he doesn't deserve to die. I said it the first night I was here, it's us versus them, and I'm not giving those undead fuckers any freebees."

Shane watches me for a few moments before turning and facing the rest of the .

"Now listen up all of you, you're not just putting yourselves in danger. We never had a walker sighting up here, until a last week. They're running out of food in the city, and now they're making way out and heading for us. We need every able body we have here, protecting the camp."

"Sounds like you need more guns, which I had…when I was in Atlanta, I had a bag full of them, ones from the station. Six shotguns, two assault rifles, and over a dozen handguns, plus over 700 hundred assorted shells…I got ambushed though and dropped them in the street. We go back, I stop and grab them."

"Rick we don't need more guns! You went through hell to find us, and now you're going back out and risking your life for someone who may already be dead. Screw the guns; they're not worth a life!" Lori says, pleading with Rick to give up and stay there with her. Carl, who was back with Carol and Sophia steps out and clings onto his dad, wrapping his arms around him.

"Dad, I don't want you to go."

Rick looks down at his son,

"I know Carl, but it's not just the guns I'm after. I met a man when I first got out of the hospital, Morgan, and his son Duane. They took me in and nursed me back to health. I gave them a walkie talkie and told them to contact me when they got to Atlanta, but I have to warn them before they get there that the city is swarmed. Otherwise they're going to walk into the same trap I did. That walkie talkie is in the bag, and I have to go get it, do you understand?"

Carl nods his head, but the tears in his eyes tell me that he's still terrified of letting his father go. Rick wipes away one of the tears that has escaped his eye, but stands up and turns to the rest of us.

"We leave in 10 minutes, get all your gear packed and let's get ready to go."

Everyone turns to leave, and I'm about to go, but one more look at Carl, who has ran over to Lori, hugging and crying, and I know I have to do something. I walk over and kneel down so that I'm eye level with the kid,

"Carl, I know you don't want us to leave, and that it seems stupid to go, but we can't just leave Merle up on that roof. It's just…not the right thing to do. What if it was your dad or your mom or me who was up there; wouldn't you want people go out and save them?"

He shakes his head and I continue,

"Exactly, and that's how Daryl feels, and all of these brave people are going out there to try and help get Merle back for him. It's not the safest thing to do, but it is the right thing to do. Your dad will be fine, I promise."

"Will you bring him back? You're the best shooter I know, and if anyone can keep him safe it's you, so will you make sure he gets home safe Rose…for my mom? Please."

I smile and pull him into a hug, gripping him tight and consoling him as best I can.

"I swear to you, he'll come back to you as alive and safe as he is right now."

While I'm saying it, I look up at Lori, silently vowing her as well that I'm not just making the promise to Carl, but to her too. I'll bring Rick back, even if I have to die getting him out. She gives a solemn nod and I pull Carl away, wiping his cheeks of tears.

"I have to go and get my stuff; I'll be back as soon as possible, ok?"

"Ok."

I stand and spin around toward my tent, to go once again, but stop short and turn my head to look at Lori.

"My guns are in the black bag with my name written on the top in the tent. If you need them, use them."

She gives another nod, and I run over to my tent, quickly throwing my bow and all of my arrows into my brown leather holder and over my shoulder, strapping three knives to my thighs, a handgun in my waist band, and two more in the pockets of my cargo shorts. I let my hair down for a second and re-pull it up into a bun, not risking a ponytail since a walker could easily grab on and yank me backwards. After making sure I had everything, I dash out of the tent and over to the group of men standing by the van the others must have rode back in the other night.

"Ready?" Ricks asks, not directing the question at anyone in particular.

"No. But let's go. I say, hoping into the rear with T-Dogg and Glenn.

Rick nods and he and Daryl turn and head up to the cab as T-Dogg pulls down the door that's on the back. The entire ride up is quiet as each of checks and re-checks our guns and knives and other weapons to make sure that they're working. The last thing any of us needs is for a gun to jam while faced with a pack of walkers.


	15. Chapter 15

After 45 minutes of driving, the van stops by an abandoned, fenced in railway station. Glenn, T-Dogg, and I jump out of the back as Daryl and Rick come around and meet us. Once again, everyone checks to make sure that their weapons are ready to fire, and yes, I know, we checked them in the van, but it's different out here, you can never be too certain or safe. I look over at Daryl, who is bouncing around on his feet, anxious to go find his brother, but before we even get the chance to leave the van, he starts making threats to T-Dogg again.

"Merle better be okay."

"The geeks aren't going to get to him. I told you, I chained the door shut. Only thing making it onto the roof is us." T-Dogg retorts, obviously getting fed up with Daryl's constant battering of his decisions.

Daryl scowls at T-Dogg for a second before turning and grabbing the bolt cutters that Rick managed to convince Dale to give him, with the promise that the tools that were left on the building's roof manage to make their way back to the camp. He snaps a hole about the size of hula hoop and I crawl through first, with the rest of them following behind. Once everyone's gotten through, we all make our way up the tracks and to the city.

As we get closer and closer, the smell of the rotting, both walking and truly dead, starts to permeate our nostrils. I feel the bile in my throat rising, and soon enough I'm gagging, never having been this close to a major city since the outbreak. I pause for a second, lean over the tracks and hurl everything that's in my stomach out and onto the grass. It's disgusting and embarrassing, but right now, I'm less concerned with the fact that partially digested food is falling on my t-shit, and more with the fact that I never learned to puke quietly a.k.a. I'm being a bit too loud for comfort. The whole pack pauses for a second, Rick stopping them to make sure I don't get left behind. I hold myself steady on the rusted rails for a few minutes, willing the dry heaving to stop. Once I'm sure that I'm done throwing up, I stand up and wipe my mouth on my arm, taking a deep, steady breath.

"Sorry…I've never been this close to a city full of so much…decomposition." I say, trying to recompose myself and my dignity. Rick gives a nod and we continue on our way, me opting to stay in the back in case I have the urge to empty my stomach again. Glenn slows down and walks beside me, handing me a water bottle that he had strapped to his backpack. I graciously accept it, taking a sip that I swish around in my mouth and then spit out, before taking another big gulp to make my throat, which is burning from all the stomach acid, feel a little better. I hand it back to him,

"Thanks Glenn, I needed that."

"No problem. I was just as bad my first time here, so it's not just you. You get use to it after a while though…build up immunity almost."

"I hope to never have to come here often enough to build up immunity Glenn. Never been a city girl, and I'm certainly not now that this place is a living person's hell."

Glenn gives a nervous giggle and I smile up, knowing that dark humor is better than no humor.

"Aww, ain't y'all jus' a couple of love birds. As much as I love hearin' ya' both flirt, shut yer yappers 'fore some geeks hear ya'." Daryl quietly says from in front of us. A blush colors Glenn's cheeks red as I snap my head straight ahead, imagining a hole the size of a baseball burning into the back of Daryl's head,

"Fuck off Daryl, just because the two of us can hold a normal, friendly conversation, unlike you, does not mean that we're trying to fuck each other."

"Whatever ya' say Lil' Miss, but when I hear y'all moanin', I'll make sure to stop in and say I told ya' so.

Daryl says my way before turning around and continuing on without another word to either of us. I throw a low growl his way before turning and shrugging my shoulders at Glenn, wordlessly apologizing for Daryl's actions. He shrugs back, obviously alright, though his cheeks are still awfully red. The rest of the walk up is uneventful, each of us keeping to ourselves for the remainder of the way.

Finally, we make it to the fence that separates the city and the rail tracks. Daryl cuts through and we all sneak in, trying to make as little noise as we possibly can. We huddle together by the fence for a few seconds, figuring out what exactly the plan is.

"Merle or guns first?" Rick asks, looking around at each of us. But before anyone can even put their two cents in, Daryl over takes the conversation.

"Merle, ain't no questionin' that."

"Yes, there is. Glenn, you know the geography, which is best to go for first?"

Glenn looks around for a second, figuring out where exactly everything is laid out at, and turns back to the group,

"Merle's closer than the guns, so him first."

"Yer damn rite Merle first." Daryl mumbles as Glenn leads us down an alley, each of us drawing our weapons, ready to fire.

Now I would love to be able to tell you where exactly we went, and how many streets we took, and which directions we traveled, but by the time we made it to the building where Merle was, I was lost and confused, not even sure we were still in the same city, so I'll just have to leave that part out. We didn't see hardly any walkers as we were going either, maybe three or four, and between Daryl and me, we handled them with a silent ease, rather than have the rest of them shoot off a few rounds and pull a whole hoard our way. The five of us made it into the building, which turned out to be a department store, as silently as we could. When we enter though, we heard a gutted moan, and turned to find a woman shuffling around the store by the jewelry. I elbow Glenn, who was holding the door for everyone and is now in the back of the group again with me, and nod my head over to the walker,

"See, even when we're dead, diamonds will always be a woman's best friend."

He gives a smile and as I breathe a tiny giggle, happy that I have found someone who likes to hear when I make humorous comments about the shit we're in. Seriously, taking all of this too seriously when it's not necessary will make the whole world even a more shit place to live in.

"Damn. Yer one ugly skank." Daryl says as the walker finally spots him and tries to make her way over, only to be stopped by a bolt lodging itself into her skull. He saunters over and rips the bolt from her head before wiping it on his blue jeans and sticking it back in his crossbow, "Come on, we gotta get Merle."

Glenn takes the lead once again, and soon enough we the find the stairwell that leads to the roof. The five of us climb them as quickly as we can; making our way to the white metal door that separates the rest of the building from Merle. Just as T-Dogg promised, the door is chained shut with a padlock, sealing the roof off from the geeks who roam the streets, and while there are scratches and dried, black blood all over where the walkers obviously tried to get it, the lock hasn't been broken. Daryl whips out the bolt cutters once again and snaps the chain, ripping it from the door handle and rushing out onto the roof. All of us quickly file in, but before I even get out the door, I can already hear Daryl's cries of "no…No….NO!"

Assuming that he's found Merle turned into a vicious walker that is now trying to chop at his ankles, I pull an arrow out, prepared to kill off Merle once and for all. However, as I make my way over to Daryl, I find that Merle isn't there…well 98% of him isn't at least. The handcuffs Rick used to secure Merle to a piece of metal are still there and locked tight, but lying underneath of them is a softball sized puddle of blood, a blood crusted hacksaw, and Merle's entire left hand.

I stop short, shocked that Merle had the ability to power through cutting off his whole hand without anesthesia. Daryl, on the other hand, is not quite shocked, but is instead angry to the point of insanity.

Unable to control his wrath, Daryl strides over and aims his crossbow right at T-Dogg's head, finger on the trigger. Just as quickly though, I pull an arrow off my back and aim it at his right shoulder, thinking I can at least disable his arm enough to stop him from pulling the trigger and killing T-Dogg.

"Daryl, you better fucking put that crossbow down, or I swear to God that I'll shoot you."

"I AIN'T PUTTING IT DOWN! THIS NIGGER KILLED MY BROTHER!" Daryl screeches, pushing the point of the bolt right into T-Dogg's skin, causing a pin prick dot of blood to form and run down T-Dogg's nose. T-Dogg doesn't even flinch though, refusing to back down from Daryl's threat.

"NO HE DIDN'T! T-Dogg dropped the key, you're right, but he also put a chain around the door to make sure that Merle didn't get eaten alive, and I guarantee that if the roles had been switched, you're brother would have walked away without another look back. Merle was left up here and made the decision to cut his own fucking hand off, T-Dogg didn't sit there and hand him the goddamn saw. So I'll repeat myself one more fucking time, PUT THAT FUCKING CROSSBOW DOWN OR I'M GOING TO MAKE YOU!"

While Daryl and I were having our little "exchange", Rick had made his way around Daryl, quickly drawing his Python out and aiming it at the back of Daryl's skull.

"I'd listen to the lady if I were you. I won't hesitate, and I really could care less if every walker in the whole damn city hears me."

Daryl doesn't move for a second, and I feel my heart jump into my throat, thinking that Rick is actually going to shoot him, but for once in his life, Daryl listens and lowers his crossbow to the ground. He never takes his eyes off of T-Dogg though, glaring at him the entire time before speaking again,

"You got a do-rag or sumthin'?"

T-Dogg fishes around in pocket for a second before producing a blue neckerchief and throwing it at Daryl.

"You're welcome."

Daryl ignores T-Dogg sarcastic politeness and goes back over to Merle's dead hand, grabbing it with the do-rag and wrapping it up.

"Guess that saw blade was too dull ta' break through the handcuffs…ain't that a bitch."

"What the hell are you doing?" I ask, somewhat sickened by the fact that Daryl is picking up his brother's lifeless hand after it has sat on a roof in the middle of the city during a hot Georgia day.

"When I find Merle, I'm gonna give him his hand back."

"Are you seriously going to give your brother his decaying hand back when you see him…no brotherly hug or 'I missed you' or 'Glad to see you didn't die'?" I ask, backing away a little as Daryl goes over to Glenn, unzipping his backpack and placing the wrapped up hand inside.

"If I told Merle that I had missed him, he'd probably punch my lights out and ask if I was some kind of faggot." Daryl says, glancing my way as he re-zips the backpack.

"Fair enough." I say as T-Dogg walks over and collects Dale's promised tools. I start to help, picking up a hammer and wrench that landed over by the roof's edge when I notice a blood trail leading from where the handcuffs are to the other side of the roof.

"Hey, Redneck! Look at this…" I say, pointing to the little splatters of blood that run to a fire escape on the other side of the building.

"Well I'll be damned…come on!" Daryl says, quickly rushing to the side of the roof and climbing down the fire escape.

I follow after with Rick, Glenn, and T-Dogg in tow, and we make our way down the ladder, calling out Merle's name as we descend. We get the bottom of the escape and find a broken window that leads into what looks like one of the store's back offices. Daryl goes through first, soon followed by Glenn and T-Dogg. I go to jump and grab the window's ledge, but I'm too short to reach. I try again this time giving a little run before I do, but I still miss it by a good three inches.

"Why's the whole world made for tall people?!" I exclaim, staring up at the unreachable window.

"Hold on, let me help you. Hey Daryl! Come back to the window for a second!" Rick yells. Daryl pops his head back out and looks down at the two of us,

"What?"

"She's can't reach, I'm going to pass her up and you pull her in, alright?"

"Lil' Miss too tiny to make it up here all by herself? Ain't that jus' adorable."

"Redneck, I advise you to shut up before I give you a black eye." I say, staring up at him, only to receive a wicked smile back,

"I'd like ta' see ya' try."

I'm about to throw a sarcastic answer back when I feel Rick behind me. He leans down and wraps his arm around my knees, pushing me upwards. I hold my arms out to Daryl, who grabs me by my wrists and pulls me in through the window, helping me jump from the sill to the floor. As I jump though, I stumble and lose my balance, practically fall into his arms. For a few seconds I rest there, gripping onto his biceps as I regain my equilibrium. But then I recall who exactly is helping me stand and I quickly scramble out of his hold though, dusting myself off as Rick jumps in behind us.

"Thank you," I say to both men before grabbing an arrow from my bag and cocking my arm back for my bow, "Now let's go find Merle before he passes out of blood loss."


	16. Chapter 16

We walk into what I think was an office kitchen at one time, but by now it's been ransacked and covered in...let's not even talk about what I think it's covered in, because I'm pretty sure I'd end up hurling again, and I'd rather not. We find a walker shuffling around, but I'm quick to draw an arrow and kill it. As I walk over and pull my arrow out of its temple, I spot two other dead geeks, both business men in Armani suits, lying on the ground. I crouch over them, and examine their heads, finding a puncture wound through one's temple and the other has the knife sticking out of his eye. I feel Daryl come up behind me and look over my shoulder, staring at the two walkers as well. I stand up and turn, looking him in the eye,

"Looks like Merle was here. Evidently he had enough in him to take out these two." I say, pointing over my shoulder to the pile of rot lying on the ground.

"One handed. Toughest asshole I ever met, my brother. Feed him a hammer, he'd crap out nails."

I shake my head, not able to deny that Merle is obviously one tough son of a bitch…the guy is a dickhole, but I'm pretty sure that if I had been put in this same situation, I would have been dead or walker food by now, and I'm no softy by any means.

"Any man can pass out from blood loss, no matter how tough they think they are." Rick says, causing us both to turn around.

"True, but Merle made it this far, and if he could just get somewhere safe, where the walkers couldn't get to him as easy, he might actually be alive. Any ideas on how to find him?" I ask, turning to Daryl, figuring that he's obviously known his brother the longest so maybe he knows the best place to start looking. However, instead of telling us where to start, Daryl just yells, "MERLE!" right into my ear, causing me to flinch.

"Ouch! Jesus Daryl, he's not hiding on my ear drum! I meant do you know where he might have gone?"

"Not a damn idea, Lil' Miss. MERLE!"

"Why don't you try being a bit quieter?!"

"I wasn't bein' that loud!"

"Yes you were!"

"Would you two stop fighting?! Remember, we're not alone here." Rick whispers, stepping in between the two of us.

I take a deep breath and look up at Rick,

"Sorry, won't happen again."

"Fuck sorry, Merle could be bleedin' out, ya' said so yerself."

"Maybe, but bringing every walker in a 10 mile radius to us is not going to help us find him, so shut up."

Daryl throws a glare at Rick, but he stays quiet…for the moment that is. I wander around the kitchen, searching for any clue that might show me what Merle did after killing the two walkers. I search the cabinets, the fridge, the pantry, and the sink, but I don't find shit, making it seem like Merle just passed through, not touching a damn thing. As I walk around one last time, my foot hits something, and I look down to find a brown, leather belt with a big, silver buckle. I bend over and pick it up, turning it in circles and finding blood stains on the inside.

"Hey Daryl, this your brother's belt?" I ask, holding it up for him.

Daryl makes two strides and reaches me, grabbing the belt out of my hands and turning it over.

"Yeah, this is his. Got his initials engraved on it, see?" he says, pushing it in my face so I can see the M.D. wrote in black cursive, "Must have used it as a tourniquet when he chopped his hand off."

I nod and start examining around where I found the belt, right in front of the stove. I walk over and search around it, finding that one of its burners is lit and running. I lean in closer and catch the distinct smell of burning flesh, causing me to pull my face away, coughing.

"Hey guys, I think I found something."

The four of them gather around the stove as I point to the burned gunk that's on the top of the burner.

"What the hell is that?" Daryl asks, leaning in closer, examining it.

"Well, I think that it's Merle's skin. You smell that acidy, metallic shit? That would be the scent of human flesh that's been burned."

"And how ya' know what burin' flesh smells like?"

"I interned when I was in college at a psychiatric hospital near my hometown, and we got a woman with major depression there once, and she loved to burn herself. Her room constantly smelled like this, and it's hard to forget once you've smelled it for a few dozen weeks in a row. Anyway, obviously Merle stuck his bloody stump on the burner to cauterize it."

"Told ya' my brother was tough, only thing that can kill Merle is Merle." Daryl says, turning around and walking out of the room, clearly finished with the conversation.

"Don't be so sure Daryl…he's obviously not just lying somewhere bleeding to death, but he still lost a lot of blood between the roof and here."

"Meaning?" Glenn asks.

"Meaning that Merle could still pass out unexpectedly somewhere from all the blood loss if he keeps moving around." Says Rick, and I nod my head in agreement.

"Hey! Merle must a smashed another window to git out, c'mere and look." Yells Daryl from the next room over. The four of us go over to him, side stepping the dead and rotting bodies all around us, and gather around another broken window that ultimately leads down into another alley way.

"He left the building? Why the hell would he do that?" Glenn asks.

"Why the hell wouldn' he? Ya' sorry ass pricks handcuffed him ta' the roof and left him here ta' die, so fer all he knew, he was alone. So he did what Merle does best…find a way ta' survive."

"You call that surviving?! Going out into the street, where there are thousands of walkers more than ready to gnaw at you, all while maybe passing out from major blood loss? What did he think his chances of surviving out there were?!" Says T-Dogg from behind me, his tone colored with disbelief that someone would really be that stupid...obviously he hasn't spent enough time with dear old Merle.

"No better than being handcuffed to a roof and making it out alive…I'm going out after him." Says Daryl, climbing up to the window.

"The fuck you are Redneck." I say, walking over and pulling him back down by the hem of his shirt. He spins around and glares down at me,

"Git off Lil' Miss…I ain't messing around."

"Oh, and you were when you punched me in the face when I stopped you from coming here by yourself?"

"No…that was…to hell with ya', that was somethin' different! Now Merle's my brother, and as much as ya' don' like him, he's blood and I gotta find him…he's all I got left." Daryl spits out, trying to make his way out the window once more, only to have me stick an arrow through his shirt and onto the wooden table to our right, causing him to be stuck once again. He turns his head and glares at me, anger burning in his blue eyes,

"Take that fuckin' arrow out of my shirt or so help me, I'll shove it right down yer throat."

"Bring it on Redneck, but I'm not moving that arrow until you come down and decide to have a level-headed discussion about how ALL OF US can find Merle. I get it Daryl, he's your family, and any of us here would probably react the same way if we knew that someone we loved was out there roaming around, dazed from blood loss in a city full of crazy, undead fuckers who want to eat them. But you can't just go rushing into hell on earth like some kind of crazed bull; otherwise you'll end up as some geek's main course in no time. Merle's weak and probably in shock, which means he couldn't have traveled more than 2 or 3 blocks at the most before having to rest for a while, meaning he's not far from here. So get your hillbilly ass down here and we'll all help you look around and find him, right boys?" I ask, turning and looking at the other three who are behind me.

"Of course." Says Rick, as T-Dogg and Glenn both nod their heads.

I turn and look back up at Daryl, who is just watching the rest of us, probably questioning whether or not we're being sincere about our intentions or if we're just trying to pull a fast one on him. After a few more movements he mutters, "I can deal with that," and jumps down from the sill. I remove my arrow from his shirt and place it back in my carrier,

"Smart move. Ok, so how do you guys want to go about this?" I ask, turning to Rick, who seems to know how to strategize best. Before we get the chance to discuss tactics though, T-Dogg jumps in,

"Before we go out, I want to go get those guns first. I'm not strolling around the streets of Atlanta solely with my good intentions."

"That's fine; I'd think we'd all feel safer with those guns in our hands anyway." Says Rick, "Anyone have any ideas about how to get them?"

All of us just look around at each other, no idea about how to get out into the streets of Atlanta, which are infiltrated by hundreds of walkers, grab the guns, and get back without being bitten. There is a long stretch of silence as each of us tries coming up with a way to get the guns when Glenn pipes up,

"Ummm, guys? I think I have an idea…but you're not going to like it."

"Glenn, any idea is better than no idea, what is it?" I ask.

"I'll go out alone and grab the guns myself."

The entire room goes quiet for a second before I walk over and punch Glenn in the forearm.

"Ow! What the hell was that for?"

"Because that's the absolute worst idea that I've ever fucking heard! You want us to just let you waltz out into the street, which is literally crawling with geeks, all by yourself?!"

"Even I think it's a bad idea and I don't even like you much." Daryl says from the corner.

"If Daryl Dixon thinks it's a bad idea, then it has got to be not only dangerous but fucking suicidal as well! End of discussion, next idea." I say, turning my back to Glenn and staring at the other three, ready to hear some new and saner idea.

Glenn grabs me by the shoulder though and whips me around, staring me down with a look of determination,

"It's a good idea, okay, if you'll just to me. If we go out there in a group, we're slow and we'll draw attention to ourselves, and then those walkers will swarm us. If I do out alone though, I can move fast and one scrawny Asian kid is going to draw a lot less interest. Look," he says, kneeling down on the ground and drawing a mock map of the city with his finger, "The tank where Rick dropped the guns is 5 blocks from where we are now. This is the alley way where I drug Rick in when I save him from the ambush. Daryl, Rose, and I will go down to that alley."

"Why me?" Daryl and I ask simultaneously, which causes both of us to shake our heads and just stare at each other for a second before turning back to Glenn.

"Your guys' crossbow and bow and arrow are quieter than guns. So the three of us will go down this alley, I'll run out, grab the guns, and run back."

"And where exactly are Rick and T-Dogg going?" I ask.

"They'll be in this alley." Glenn says, pointing to a tiny sliver that he drew a few blocks away.

"Why two blocks away?" Rick asks, obviously confused.

"If for some reason I can't make it back to the alleyway with Daryl and Rose in it, like walkers cut me off or something, I won't try and go back, I'll go foreward and meet you two there. This way, I'm totally covered from both sides."

There is a few seconds of silence where everyone mulls it over, and I can't deny that it's the best plan we got, but I'm still uneasy about letting Glenn go out by himself.

"It's a good plan Glenn, but I've got one tiny modification to make to it. You said that as a group we're slow and noticeable and you're completely right…but you're wrong to say that you're the only fast one here. I ran track when I was in college, ask Daryl and T-Dogg, I told them all about it when I first showed up at camp. Let me go out with you, I can run and shoot my bow at the same time…just as a safety measure." I plead, begging him to not make this a kamikaze mission and let me go out there with him to try and save his ass.

"And if I say no?" he asks.

"I'll follow you out anyway."

"Then why did you ask?"

I shrug my shoulders, not really having a reason.

"Fine, whatever, Rose and I will run out together, while Daryl covers us from the one alley while T-Dogg and Rick from the other. Afterwards, we all meet up back here. Deal?"

We all nod in agreement, making our way out of the room and through the broken window into the alley way by the fire escape. Our group of five runs together for about three blocks before Glenn points them to go left as the rest of us go right. We make our way down three more alleys before ending up beside a metal gate. We wait a few minutes, giving Rick and T-Dogg enough time to make it to their alley, before Glenn and I position ourselves in front of the gate, ready to make a run. I pull my bow into my arms with an arrow already in it, ready to fire off the second we make our way out. Daryl positions himself by the gate, loading his crossbow and crouching down.

"Ya' know, both of ya's got a lot of balls, that is fer a woman and a Chinaman."

"I'm Korean."

"Same thin'."

I roll my eyes as Glenn looks back at me and I nod. He swings the gate open and the two of us starting making our dash out into the street. We make it out just fine, but I notice that several walkers have seen us, but they just kind of shuffle and moan around toward us, nothing violent yet. The tank comes quickly into view, but a walker, a pizza delivery boy with one leg, is hobbling around the guns, and I fire off an arrow, killing him quickly. Glenn quickly grabs the guns and a sheriff's hat, which I'm assuming is Rick's, as I rip my arrow back out of Pizza Boy's head and load it back into my bow. I look up and notice that all the walkers are coming at us from the direction we were headed, so we quickly turn around and make our way back to the alley with Daryl in it. As we get closer though, I starts to hear grunts and thuds, and while I'm still focusing on not falling behind far enough to get my ass bitten, in the back of my mind I keep trying to figure out what the fuck those noises are. When we make it to the gate though, it is all too clear what is going on, when we stumble upon three Mexican gangsters who are beating the living shit out of Daryl, as he lies on the ground, covering his face and trying to shoot his crossbow.

"What the fuck?!" I yell, drawing their attention away from Daryl for a second and up to Glenn and I. Their eyes zero in on the bag with the guns and a huge, bald guy with a mustache and goatee points at it, and yells at the other,

"That's it! That's the bag, Vato! Take it! Take it!" he says as he runs towards us, hand out stretched for the black dufflebag. I grab a knife off of my thigh and slash at him, cutting a long red line along his arm. But now the other gangster, a tall, muscular guy with a blue bandanna on comes rushing at Glenn and I try to take him out by throwing my knife, but I miss because Baldy has managed to slip behind me and lock me in a bear hug. I struggle and kick and try to wiggle my way out, but he's too strong for me.

"LET GO OF ME YOU BASTARD!" I yell, throwing my head backwards and clocking him the nose with my skull, but he still doesn't let go. I turn to the side and look over at Glenn, only to find that Bandanna has pinned Glenn's arms to his side and has been able to pick him off the ground since he's probably a good 6 inches taller than him. I continue to try and wrestle my way out of Baldy's grip, but he and Bandanna are quickly carrying Glenn and I to a car that has pulled up right outside of the gate. The driver winds down the window and shouts,

"Vamanos, VAMANOS! COME ON FILEPE, WE HAVE TO GO!"

"Daryl! Get off of me you bald fucker! DARYL! HELP! PLEASE DARYL! HELP US!" I scream, trying to remember some other move to get me out, but I can't remember a damn thing, too shocked over my failed attempts to be able to think of anything else.

Bandanna makes it into the car first, throwing Glenn inside and holding the door as Baldy throws me in after them. I land directly on top of Glenn, and go to pull my knife out, but two other guys are sitting in the back, and they grab Glenn and I, pinning us down. Bandanna jumps in the back, slamming the door shut at Baldy makes his way to the front. All of the sudden though, Baldy gives a giant holler and flies into the front seat with a crossbow bolt sticking out of his right ass cheek.

"DARYL! DARYL!" I yell, desperate for him to come save us, but when I look down the alley, I can see he's not even able to pull himself up off the ground yet.

The car's wheels give a squeal and before I know what's happening, we are flying down the road, leaving Daryl and our safety behind. I continue to try and fight, pushing, pulling, wiggling, shaking, biting, clawing, doing absolutely anything I can to try and get away, but I'm caught like a bear in a trap. All of the sudden, the guy who is pinning me down throws a piece of cloth over my nose and mouth. One sniff and I know they've laced the rags with chloroform. I immediately hold my breath and continue to try and pull myself out of their grasp, but I can't hold on forever and after a few minutes my lungs force me to open my mouth to gasp for air. One second I'm sucking in oxygen as I look across the seat at Glenn, who has already been knocked out, and the next I'm sucked into darkness.


	17. Chapter 17

Eventually, I come to, but I'm disoriented as hell, barley able to recall what my name is. I sit for a few minutes, trying to collect my thoughts together, when I realize that it's really, really dark wherever I'm at, even though I know that my eyes are open. I squint and do that wide eyed blink thing that people do when they get really tired, but nothing changes and I'm still stuck in pitch blackness. That's when it hits me, and I remember that I've been drugged by some Mexican wannabe gangster assholes who were trying to get Rick's guns that he left out by the tank in Atlanta.

My brain immediately kicks into survival mode and I understand that I have to get out and I have to get out fast. Knowing that I'm not going to be able use my vision to break out of my current situation, I find that I'm sitting on a chair, so I try stand up, but when I attempt to move, I fall forward and hit the ground like a ton of bricks. That's also when I realized that my hands are also tied together behind my back because I couldn't use them to break my fall as I landed on my face, striking my sore and bruised cheek off the hard floor beneath me. Pain bursts through my face and I scream out a mangled cry of agony, but it too is silenced by something covering my mouth, and by the feel I'm assuming that it's some kind of duct tape. Now the panic receptors in my brain start shooting off like mad, trying to think of something, ANYTHING to do, but I'm trapped and bound and gagged and I literally have no way of escaping right now.

That's when I hear a door near me open, as five sets of footsteps clamor in. Suddenly I'm being lifted off the ground by two sets of hands and set upright once more. Someone reaches up and pulls the cover off my head, temporarily blinding me as the light from the lamps tries to burn its way into my eyes, causing them to squint. After a few seconds, the light isn't so white or blinding, and I can actually look around the room. For a second I get really confused, because I'm not holed up in some broken down, makeshift warehouse like I thought I was, but in a sunshine bathed day room that has yellow painted walls and tons of chairs and couches scattered throughout it. I look around and find Glenn sitting to my right, looking absolutely petrified despite our soft and cushy surroundings. I glare upwards at the men standing in front of us, which includes Baldy, Bandanna, and three other fuckers who I haven't had the pleasure of meeting, and start to shout a stifled string of insults to let those "motherfucking, goat screwing, needle dick bastards" know that I was pissed as hell and that they had fucked around with the wrong person. One of them, an averaged height black guy with a buzz cut, crouches down beside me, grabbing my chin and looking me right in the eyes. I stare right back, silently telling him that if he would just untie my hands, I would make his death quick.

"This the chica fuerte who broke your nose Filipe?"

"Yeah, she rammed her head backwards and cracked it. She fought tooth and nail too, out lasted this hombre by a good 5 minutos."

"She's tough; you can see it in her eyes ese."

Buzz Cut gives a grim smile, and looks away, turning my head and noticing the blue and purple bruise that has streaked itself under my eye. His eyes grow a bit softer for a second as he tsks like a mother hen,

"Filipe, go get an ice pack for her cheek."

Baldy, who I guess is Filipe, nods and walks out the door, evidently going to get me something cold to stick on my cheek. Buzz Cut lets go of my chin and turns his torso so that he's facing Glenn now. He grabs Glenn's face just like mine, and stares him in the eyes as well. Glenn, unable to control himself, starts to breathe really rapidly and whimper like a dog. Unable to stand seeing someone feel so terrified, I start to wiggle and yell, as much as I can that is, at Buzz Cut, trying to get him to leave Glenn alone.

"Calm down chica, I'm not gonna hurt him." Buzz Cut says, keeping his back to me. He stares at Glenn for a few more seconds before standing up and stopping in front of the two of us.

"My name is Guillermo, and I'm the leader of the Vatos, the pandilla Mexicana that was going out to get those guns that you two and those other three stole before we got there. Now I'm considering taking off your gags for the second, but you have to play by my rules: you don't curse, you don't scream, you respect me and the other eses in the room, and you answer our questions, comprendo? And really, I'm not too worried about you, Korean Boy, but you chica," he says, pointing over at me, "You have to control that nasty temper. Otherwise we stop our little conversation. Deal?"

I glance over at Glenn and question him through my eyes, asking if he thinks that it's worth it. He gives a small nod and I turn to Guillermo, shaking my head yes. Guillermo snaps his fingers and the two unnamed gangsters behind him come up to Glenn and I and rip the tape off of our mouths. I gasp and bite down on the inside of my lips, stifling the pain that came from ripping the skin off of my face. Once I've regained my composure, I turn my face up, looking straight at Guillermo.

"What are your names?" he asks, not wasting any time.

"Rose" I say, voice as icy and cold as I can make it.

"And you ese?"

"Glenn."

"Rose and Glenn, sorry we had to meet under these circumstances. As I said before, my name is Guillermo. This is Jorge," he says, clapping Bandanna on the shoulder, "and those two are Alejandro and Pablo. Now tell us, why were you all going after those guns in the street?"

"One of the men in our group, Rick, those were his guns and he wanted them back." I say, not letting my eyes or voice waver, indicating to Guillermo that I'll be the one taking the questions, not Glenn.

"Those guns were just lying in the street; anybody could say that they were theirs."

"Maybe, but I guess you'll just have to trust that I'm telling you the truth."

"Ha, very funny chica, but trust for anyone other than those who have shown time and time again that they fight for you went out the window when all these muertos showed up."

"Fine, don't listen, but I'm not lying."

Obviously fed up with the "lies" that was really the honest to God truth, Guillermo moves on,

"Why did your amigo shoot Filipe in the ass with a crossbow?"

"I don't know, wouldn't you put an arrow in someone's ass if they had not only just helped beat the living crap out of you, but were also kidnapping two of your people?"

"They'd have gotten a bullet to the heart chica, not an arrow to the ass."

"Guess Daryl's aim was off." I smirk, unable to let the sarcasm that is slowly building inside of me leak out a little. Guillermo's face goes all stony for a second, letting me know that I was close to crossing the line straight back to Duct Tape Land.

"Where is your camp at?"

"No."

"Tell me where your camp is at."

"Why? So you can go rob us of all our supplies? No happening, try again."

"Watch it chica, I've got plenty of more tape here." Guillermo warns.

I'm about to throw a retort back in his face when Filipe walks back in, no ice pack in sight, and whispers something in Guillermo's ear. He nods his head and then turns his attention back to us,

"Sounds like your amigos are on their way here. Cut the ropes binding their legs, tape their mouths shut again, and put the bags back over their heads. Take them up to the barricade's roof, wait until I give the signal to bring them into view." He orders, turning and walking out the door with Filipe and Jorge as Alejandro and Pablo tape Glenn and I up once again before shrouding us in darkness. I'm then forced to stand up and walked out of the room. As we're making our way through this building, I keep hearing people speak, but they're not young voices I catch…they sound like the elderly speaking. I think for a second, trying to figure out how I'm hearing old people speak, since most of them had been killed by then, either by walkers or ransackers since they had no way of protecting themselves. The thoughts are paused momentarily though as I step off of the tile floored I had been walking on and step onto something softer…I can't place what it is for a second, but soon enough I hear birds chirping and the warm glow of the summer sun on my skin and I realize that I'm walking on the grass. Glenn and I are marched across a small span of earth before stepping on some hard and unforgiving floor before being turned and forced up a set of steps. Once on the roof, Alejandro and Pablo make us sit down and for the next 15 minutes, we simply wait there, slowly baking and sweating in the sun.

But soon enough, the two of them yank us off the ground and push us over to the roofs edge, ripping the bags that had been on our heads off. Once again, I'm blinded by the light, but I can see clearly soon enough and look down, seeing Daryl, Rick, and some skinny Mexican boy standing in front of a whole crowd of Guillermo's group. Rick stares up at us for a second before turning his attention back to Guillermo, but Daryl on the other hand, he keeps staring up at Glenn and me, though his eyes seem to be stuck on me more than Glenn. I give him a small nod, trying to somehow let him know that they haven't been torturing us in the back, and he gives one back before turning his attention back to whatever Guillermo is saying. Just as quickly as we were shoved out to the roof's ledge, we are forced backwards; with the bags being placed on our heads as we are made to go all the way back to the day room.

Once sat back down in our original chairs, our bags our removed and Glenn and I find Guillermo in front of us.

"You two listen, especially you chica…I'll let Alejandro and Pablo take the tape off and cut your hands free if you two swear to not try and kill us. We don't wanna hurt you, but you step out of line and we will. Sí?"

I nod my head…I don't trust them as far as I can spit, but they haven't done anything to us that is overly cruel or abusive, so I'll hold on to my energy until one of them slips up and they do. Guillermo gives a nod and the two gangsters cut our hands free, allowing us to peel the tape back off of our mouths ourselves. I rub my wrists and trying to soothe the red thin lines that encircle them as I stare up at Guillermo,

"Bueno…but I've got one rule for you two, and only one. Don't leave this room. Got it?"

Glenn and I shake our heads yes, and the group turns to go, but Filipe, who was in the back pauses for a second before reaching into his pocket and producing an ice pack. He spins and throws it to me,

"Here. I would have given it to you sooner, but your friends interrupted me before I got the chance to."

"Thanks." I say, massaging the slightly gushy ice pack in my hands. He gives a nod and then leaves, shutting the door behind him. Once they're gone I let out a long sigh and turn to Glenn who has shakily sat down on one of the couches. I walk over and sit by him,

"You ok?" I ask, giving him a quickly look over to make sure he isn't seriously hurt.

"Yeah, uhhh, fine I guess…overall. What about you?"

"Besides the fact when I first came to I tried to get up and ended up falling on my already busted up cheek, yeah, I'm good." I say, turning to show him my puffed and bruised face.

"Oh wow, here, let me see that ice pack." Glenn says, moving closer to me. I hand it over and as gently as he can, he places the pack on my face. I wince and suck in a sharp breath, tears springing to my eyes as I realize just how sore my face has gotten after two hard blows. Glenn retracts for a second,

"Shit, I'm sorry…I didn't mean to—"

"It's fine Glenn, just…it's just tender, not your fault."

He gives a small nod and then presses the pack back on my face.

"So, what are we going to do to get out of here?" he asks.

"Nothing. Listen, I know, we're almost as far up shit creek as you can go, but when we were on the roof, it looked like Rick and Guillermo were making some kind of deal…I don't know what or why or how or when, but we're just going to sit here for the moment. I don't wanna fuck up whatever situation they've got going on, so you and I are going to sit in this room and wait for Rick and Daryl and T-Dogg to come back with whatever Guillermo wants."

"And what if they're not coming back?"

"Then we still don't do anything, because if that happens, you and I are joining Guillermo's group…or we're at least going to make them think we are until we get the chance to run out of the city and back to the camp."

"But what if the—"

"Glenn! Listen, I'm making this shit up as we go, so right now I don't have every possibility mapped out in my head and I'm not going to be able to answer all the 'what ifs'…I wish I could, but right now the only concern I have is for you and I to be able to make it out of here alive and get back to the camp, ok!"

He shakes his head, obviously not happy with the fact that I snapped at him. I sigh and move his hand down, looking him in the eye.

"I'm sorry. I'm just…well, I'm scared and I don't want you or I to die and angry that we're stuck in this hell hole and not out there looking for Merle and…I didn't mean to yell at you."

"It's fine, I understand. But umm, can I ask you something? You know, since we're just sitting here, killing time?"

"Sure, what?"

"Why did you come out here to help find Merle? Like, I didn't want to come, the guy is a racist douchebag who probably doesn't deserve to be saved, and you've only known us for…well for less than a week and now you're sticking your neck out for one of us…it's just…well strange and I wanted to know why you did it."

"Honestly? I don't really know why I came out…I just…I had to. It could have been because I feel the need to help those who need to be protected and Merle was in desperate need of saving…or it could have been because I felt this weird debt was due to Merle for going all the way to my camp with me and letting me sleep in his tent, though neither of those were really his choice…or maybe…maybe…"

"Maybe what?"

"Well…no, that's impossible. Just ignore I ever mentioned another maybe."

"Rose…what's the other maybe." He demands, lowering the ice pack from my cheek and staring me in the eye. I give a loud breath out, knowing that for some reason I trust this kid and I just can't seem to lie to him.

"Well…maybe I did it for Daryl. He's saved my ass once or twice since he found me in the woods and maybe I wanted to come out here and repay the debt. Plus…when he found out that Merle was just gone, he ran to his tent and I ran after him. In his tent he was just…well a broken little boy who had lost his older brother, and there was no way I could turn my back on him then. And I don't know, maybe I kind of…sort of…like Daryl."

Before Glenn gets the chance to reply though, the door to the day room swings open and in shuffles this little old lady with hair curlers, a white night gown, and pink house slippers on. Glenn and I jump up off the couch and stare in confusion at this old woman, completely surprised to see her. She squints at us and shuffles over, looking at the two of us. After a few you seconds a smile breaks across her face.

"Oh, you two must be Filipe's friends. Come with me."

She turns and starts to walk out, but when we don't follow, she stops and faces us once again.

"Didn't you hear me, follow."

I get over my shock and clear my throat,

"Umm, well ma'am, Guillermo told us not to leave this room."

"Guillermo is a good boy, but he will listen to me and I say you two come out now."

I turn and look at Glenn, who shrugs his shoulders and then makes his way over to the woman. I shake my head and follow, unsure whether this is a good move for the two of us to make or not, but what person in their right mind would not listen to a little old lady when she tells them to follow her?


	18. Chapter 18

We make our way into a hallway that is mostly empty except for a few young women who are going in and out of some of the rooms with food trays. As one of them opens the door to a room we're passing, I stop and take a glance inside, seeing an old man lying in a bed as one of the young women places a trey in front of him.

"Oh my my my, look at this pretty thing…Lily, right? What did an old man like me ever do to deserve such beauty in my sight?"

"Mr. Sanders, you sly old fox, here's your lunch."

Before I get the chance to hear the rest of the conversation though, the little old woman has grabbed my hand is pulling me along,

"Don't stop, you might get lost."

"Oh, sorry…umm, ma'am…what do I call you?"

"My name is Maria, but most of Filipe and Miguel's friends call me Abuela. Filipe and Miguel are my grandsons."

"Alright, Abuela…where are we exactly?"

"Nursing home, of course, didn't Filipe tell you?"

"Ummm, no Abuela, he must have forgotten."

"Filipe is a good boy now, but he is always forgetting things. Let me show you everybody."

The tiny old lady then grabs Glenn hand as well and marched us around, introducing us to everybody who was there. After walking around for 20 minutes, learning everybody's name, Abuela sits us down at a small table in what looks to be a gymnasium and sits down two bottles of water in front of us. I grab mine and gratefully chug is down, not having drunk since Glenn gave me a sip from his backpack.

"Gracias Abuela, I really needed that, I haven't had anything to drink since this morning and in Georgia during the summer, that certainly is not often enough."

"You are welcome Rose, but why did you not stop at a…a…umm, do you speak Spanish?"

"Kind of? I took 4 years of it in high school, and a bit in college, pero no fluente."

"¿Comó se dice una tienda de conveniencia en ingles?"

"Convenience store."

"Yes, why did you not buy water at a convenience store?"

"Oh umm, well…I was in a hurry to meet su nieto, Abuela, and I guess I…forgot until now."

"Oh I see"

As we're talking, I hear the bark of a dog, and turn around to find three tiny little Chihuahua's, two white ones and a black one, resting in a fluffy, pink dog bed. I get up off my chair and crouch down to their level, holding my hand out for them to smell. They all growl at me at first, obviously not use to seeing strangers,

"Come on puppies, I'm not here to hurt you, I just wanna pet you." I say, moving in a little closer to the bed.

The three seem hesitant at first, but cautiously, they all make their way out of the bed and sniff my hand all over. After a few minutes of letting them get a good whiff and understanding that I'm not an enemy, I slowly move it and pat the black one's head, scratching it between its ears. It closes its eyes and moves itself even more into my hand, obviously enjoying the free head scratch. Soon enough all three of them are rolling around, vying to get my attention so I'll scratch their stomach or head or back, and I giggle, completely amused by these three silly little dogs.

"Abuela, whose dogs are these?"

"They are Guillermo's, he brought them with him."

"Guillermo owns Chihuahuas? I would have taken him for more of a…Pitbull or Rottweiler kind of guy."

"No, Guillermo loves those dogs, they are su bebes."

"Do you know their names?"

"The black one is Esperanza, the white and brown one is Alegría, and the white one is Amor."

"Hope, Happiness, and Love? Wow, Guillermo is really surprising me today." I say, smiling at the puppies before standing back up and returning to my seat.

I'm just about to ask more questions when, all of the sudden, one of the men, Mr…Gilbert I think, starts wheezing really hard. Abuela looks over towards him, and without saying a word, she quickly waddles over to see what is wrong. With her gone I quickly turn to Glenn and start to whisper,

"What the hell is this? This band of gang members is protecting a nursing home full of old people! Have we gone to some weird parallel universe?! Plus none of them obviously know what is going on out there, I mean hell, she asked me why I didn't stop for water at a convenience store!"

"I don't know, I'm just as confused as you are…maybe they're doing it out of the goodness of their hearts?"

"Glenn, they drugged us and kept us locked away in a day room, ransoming us out to Rick, Daryl, and T-Dogg, they don't seem like the group to just do it for the 'goodness of their hearts'!"

"¡Ayudame! ¡Ayudame! Someone help!" Abuela yells.

I jump up and run over to her and Mr. Gilbert, who really looks like he's having a hard time breathing.

"Mr. Gilbert! What's wrong sir?" I ask, coming to crouch in front of him. He looks at me with desperate eyes, but his breathing is too erratic for him to speak, so he raises a finger and points to Abuela. I look up at the old woman,

"Abuela, what is wrong with Mr. Gilbert?"

"I don't know what it is called, but he can't breathe unless Filipe gives him medicine from a tube."

"Medicine from a—oh, he has asthma! Abuela, do you know where Filipe keeps Mr. Gilbert's medicine?"

"No, but Carlito might. CARLITO!"

A burly Mexican guy with a full on ZZ Top beard comes running in, gun up and ready to fire.

"Put down that gun Carlito, you might hurt somebody. Go find Mr. Gilbert's asthma medicine.

"Yes Abuela." He says, turning and dashing out the door.

Focusing my attention back on the crisis at hand, I turn back to Mr. Gilbert.

"It's alright Mr. Gilbert, don't panic…that will make your attack worse. Just…just look at me for a second, and don't look away. Concentrate on me and only me, do you understand?" I say calmly.

He nods his head, the wheezing and huffing becoming slightly more controlled. I don't take my eyes off of him, but honestly I have no experience with asthma attacks without immediately going for an inhaler and I'm terrified right now because it is possible that this old man is going to die right in front of me. I start praying to whatever God is out there, whether it is him or her or freaking goat for all I care, to get Carlito's ass back here with that freaking inhaler. All of the sudden Glenn is down by my side with a can of Coca-Cola, pushing it up to Mr. Gilbert's mouth,

"Here, drink this, caffeine helps calm your inflammation down."

Mr. Gilbert opens his mouth and Glenn pours the drink in, and after downing the whole can, Mr. Gilbert seems like he is having at least a bit more ease breathing. That's when I hear heavy footfalls coming from down the hall and in bursts Carlito, but there is no inhaler in his hand.

"Abuela, I can't find it, I'll have to go get Filipe."

"No, you stay. I will go get Filipe."

"Abuela, I don't thin—"

But before Carlito can say another word, Abuela has pushed her way past him and disappeared out the door in search of Filipe. He runs out after her, realizing that if he can't make her stay, he can at least protect her. Mr. Gilbert is handed another soda by Glenn and we continue to pump him full with as much caffeine as we can, so we can get his breathing under control. After 5 minutes or so, in parades Abuela, holding Rick's hand, Filipe, Daryl, T-Dogg, and a whole group of Vatos gang members. I quickly jump out the way and stand up, letting Filipe tend to the old man.

"All right. All right. Nice and easy. Just breathe. Just breathe. Just let it out. Just breathe. Just relax." Filipe says, sticking the inhaler gently in Mr. Gilbert's mouth and pressing it down in order to dispense the medication.

"What the hell is this?" Rick asks, coming over to Glenn and I as he looks at Mr. Gilbert.

"Asthma attack, he couldn't catch his breath all of the sudden." Glenn answers, looking over at Rick.

"MAN! We thought you two were being eaten by dogs!" T-Dogg shouts.

"You mean them?" I say, pointing over at the three runts who went to sleep in their bed. T-Dogg stares for a second before looking over at Guillermo,

"Those are the 'evilest, nastiest man-eating bitches' that you picked up from 'Satan's yard sale'!"

"You should see them when they're hungry, they turn that way." Guillermo jokes, smiling over at T-Dogg, who looks completely unamused.

"Can I speak to you for a second?" Rick asks Guillermo, and the two move aside, having a very hushed discussion. T-Dogg walks over to Glenn, questioning him about what the hell happened, and as he does that, I make my way over to Daryl, who is watching everything from the doorway.

"Howdy Redneck."

"Lil' Miss. Good to see ya' ain't dog chow, would sucked as ta' have ta' waste my bolts on these wetbacks."

"Does everything you say have to be racist…or homophobic…or sexist?" I ask, turning and glaring up at him.

"I ain't none of them things, I jus' tell ya' what I know."

"No way Redneck, you and your brother are some of the most racist, sexist, homophobic people I've ever met in my entire life!"

"Don't ya' talk about me Merle that way!"

"I'm just telling you what I know…"

"Why I'm gonna…I don't even know what I'm gonna do ta' ya' when I get my hands on ya'" Daryl yells, making a grab for me. I move to the left and dodge him,

"You'll have to catch me first Redneck." I say, giving Daryl a wink and sprinting towards the left side of the gym. He stands there for a second before making a run after me. When I make it to the left wall and turn right, I glance behind me and see that Daryl is actually chasing after me, his brown boots making loud, echoing thuds against the floor, and I'm not just running around looking like an idiot all by myself.

"Catch me if you can!" I taunt, laughing as I run.

"When I catch ya', yer gonna pay Lil' Miss!" he yells back from somewhere behind me.

By the time I'm half way across to the right wall of the gym I get the chance to look behind me again and see that Daryl is gaining on me. I give a girlish squeal and kick it into high gear, refusing to let him get me. However, even though I ran for fun in college, I was trained to run against girls who were, most of the time, a max of 7 inches taller than I am, not men the size of Daryl; so as I make it to the right wall, he catches up and wraps his arms around me, causing me to give a gasp of surprise as he screeches to a halt. I turn my head with a look of shock, which is returned with a smug smirk from Daryl.

"Now that I caught ya', how should I make ya' pay fer insultin' Merle?" he asks, a childlike spark coloring his eyes, "Hmmm…how 'bout you give me a feet massage when we git back ta' camp, sound like a fair enough punishment?"

"Ewww! Seriously, you're going to make me put my hands all over those sweaty, nasty things?! Come on, I'll do anything else, anything but that!" I say, disgusted with the idea of having to give Daryl a foot massage…not because I hate him or anything, but because I hate feet, all feet.

"Nope, that's the punishment, or I don' let ya' down."

I stick my lower lip out, giving my best girly pout as I glare up at him,

"Fine, but you better fucking wash those things or I won't go near them."

"Deal. Pleasure doin' business with ya', Lil' Miss." He says as he lowers me down to the ground.

"Whatever." I say, turning as both of us make our way back over to T-Dogg, Glenn, and Rick. We make our way over and push our way into the circle, listening as Rick continues to talk,

"…and I gave them a few of our guns and ammo, just to help them out."

"Ya' did what?!" Daryl asks from beside me, staring over in disbelief at Rick.

"I gave them some of our guns, now grab your gear and let's head out." Rick says, ending any kind of argument that may have sprung up from Daryl or anyone else in our little circle. I walk over to Guillermo, who has my bow and arrows, knives, and handguns beside him, along with Glenn's backpack and baseball cap. We grab all of our stuff as quickly as we can and head over to the door, ready to go. As I go to walk out the door though, I stop and spin around, running back over to Guillermo, who is talking with Filipe. I take both of my 9mm out of my pocket and hand one to Guillermo and one to Filipe,

"Take them."

"Chica, Rick already gave us so—" Guillermo starts, but I cut him off.

"This isn't from Rick. It's my way of saying thank you for treating Glenn and I like human beings. Now take it."

They stare me down for a second before taking the guns out of my hands and sticking them in their waist bands.

"You are doing a wonderful thing here Guillermo, by taking care of the elderly even though no on is really maling you. And Filipe, you take care of Abuela, she's got a lot of life left in her, got it?"

Filipe gives a nod before coming over and wrapping me in a hug, and Guillermo follows his lead, also giving me a hug.

"Gracias Chica, now go before your Redneck boyfriend shoots both of us in the ass with his crossbow for touching you."

"But Daryl's not my boy-, nevermind. Adios amigos. Hasta pronto y Buena suerta."

"Buena suerta to you too Chica!" Guillermo says as I turn and make my way back over to the group. We leave through the barricade's doors, which are quickly shut behind us, and make our way back out on to the streets of Atlanta. I look up at the sky as we start walking towards department building, and look over at Rick,

"We've got to leave soon, otherwise we are going to be completely fucked over and stuck in the heart of Atlanta at night, which is basically a death wish."

Rick to the sun as well and sighs, staring out at the horizon,

"I know, let's head back to the truck and come up with a plan for coming out again tomorrow and finding Merle."

Glenn takes the lead and we head back to the fence with the hole in it and down the tracks.

"Admit it Rick, you really only came back to Atlanta for that hat." Glenn mocks as we walk to the truck.

"Don't tell anybody."

"Ya' given away half our guns and ammo." Daryl states plainly, none too happy over losing fire power.

"Not nearly half."

"And fer what? A bunch of old farts who are gonna die momentarily any way! Seriously, how long ya' think any of them got?"

"How long do any of us have?" I ask, looking to my right at Daryl.

That shuts everybody up, and for the rest of the walk down, not another word was uttered. As we get closer and closer to the rail station though, I notice that I can't see the truck, but I've had a few blows to the head and think I'm just imagining it. However, when we're right up by the hole in the fence, there is no mistaking that our truck is gone.

"Oh my god…" Glenn says, scrambling through the fence and walking around where the van had been parked. The rest of us duck through just as fast and wander around, looking to make sure that we haven't gone crazy.

"Where the hell's our van!" Daryl yells, kicking at the ground where it was.

"Umm, guys? There are another set of tire tracks leaving from the spot where the van was parked…I think somebody stole our truck." I say from my spot near the dirt road that we had drove up earlier.

"We left it right here, doors locked and everything…who could have possibly taken it?!"

"Merle." Rick says, making the rest of us turn to him in disbelief.

"You think Merle…but he…there's no way…his hand…" Glenn stutters.

"I told ya', the only one that can kill Merle is Merle. And if he's the one who took our van, he's goin' ta' be taken vengeance back at camp." Daryl warns, giving all of us a grave and deadly look.

"Well then, I hope you boys are rested, because we're about to go for a little run" I say before turning and taking the lead as we run down the dirt road, chasing after a one handed hillbilly who stole our van and was now headed back to our camp to raise some hell.


	19. Chapter 19

The run up is quiet, save for the heavy breathing coming from the men behind me, and I would have shouted back a witty retort about how they're being beaten by a girl, but I was practically sprinting for what had to be three miles and I could barely concentrate on anything besides making sure one foot moved in front of the other. I turn and look behind me, seeing Rick is keeping up with me, with Glenn about a yard behind him; Daryl is doing ok I suppose, I can still make out his features, but T-Dogg is so far back that he's just a dot on the horizon.

_Come on T-Dogg, pick it up boy, we have a lot farther than this to go._

After another 45 minutes of running, I notice two things: 1) The sun is starting to set and we're only about half way back to camp and 2) I can't see T-Dogg anymore, which is really bad. I stop and turn around, catching my breath as I wait for Rick to finish running the 200 yards or so that he dropped back behind me. I hunch over and rest my hands on my knees huffing and heaving, trying to catch my breath. After a minute or two, Rick finally meets me and assumes the same position I'm in right in front of me, his breathing labored and wheezy as sweat just pours off his face. I turn my head up and look him in the eye,

"Rick…we gotta…gotta take a break. You and Glenn are…are barely keeping up…and Daryl looks like he's about to…to fall over…and hell, I can't…can't even see T-Dogg anymore."

"We…can't stop…camp could be under attack."

"We HAVE to stop, we…we can't leave T-Dogg."

"Lori and Carl…I can't just…"

"Are back…back at camp with Shane…"

But the look on Rick's face tells me that there is no way in hell that he's going to just let all of us rest for 10 minutes while his son and wife could possibly be in harm's way. I let a silence form between us as I quickly start to think of plans that would give both of us what we want: T-Dogg waited for and the reassurance that there is more than just Shane and Dale armed back at camp. As I'm thinking, my breathing finally returns to normal and my body is rearing and ready to run again, despite Rick still huffing by my side.

_Wait a second…THAT'S IT!_

"Rick, let me finish the run by myself back to camp."

"W…what?"

"You heard me, let me run the last 5 miles by myself so I can get to camp and make sure everything is alright. Remember how Glenn said that as a group we're slow and noticeable…he wasn't lying. If Merle really is back there, and all of us lumber into camp, guns ablaze, you can bet your ass somebody is going to get hurt, and not just 'better stay off your feet for a week' hurt, I'm talking dying."

"And you think…you think you can handle Merle."

"Not a chance in hell, especially not by myself. The asshole has got what, a foot of height and over a hundred pounds on me? This isn't the comic Kick Ass we're living in, it's reality, and there is not a way in hell or heaven that me, a college student with no combat training whatsoever, is going to be able to win a fight against Merle, who was probably fighting in hardcore bar brawls when I was learning to walk."

"You're…you're not making…this argument very…convincing."

"Hold your horses, I'm not done yet. Anyway, I know I can't beat him with brute strength, but I've got more intelligence in my little finger than I Merle's got in his whole head. I can use my brain to make him get his own ass into a compromising situation, as long as I play my cards right. And if I can't beat him, I can at least stall him from killing anyone else at camp."

"Rose…"

"Rick, don't you fucking start with me. We've got two options: all of us keep running and everyone risk their lives, or you let me run ahead to camp and just risk my own."

Rick stares up at me, looking pulled in both directions, but he eventually stands up and walks over to me, putting his hand on my shoulder,

"When you get to camp, don't run straight in to the middle. Watch from the outside for a few minutes, figure out if Merle is truly at camp or not. If he is, you sneak in and hang low, only confronting him when you've got the upper hand. Got it?"

"Yeah, of course. Now let me go." I say, taking his hand off as I turn and start to dash away from him. I get about 200 yards before I hear Rick yell,

"ROSE!"

I don't stop, just turn around and run backwards,

"WHAT?"

"THANK YOU!" I hear him faintly shout, his body becoming a smudge against the distance. I nod, even though I know he can't see before spinning around and pushing my body to run as fast as I ever have.

I reach camp, guessing by the light of the sun, in half an hour, but as I get closer, I take a sharp right and circle around to where the tents are, creeping up slowly. I find my massive tent, the one set as close to the forest as I could get it, and silently make my way behind it, stopping and listening for anything. For a few minutes there is nothing, but that stretch of stillness…that is what make me feel the fear start to rip itself out of my chest because I just know that camp is never this quiet; someone is always doing something and making noise, meaning something desperately, desperately wrong is going on.

_Fuck, something has gone wrong and now I've got to fix this shit…ok, ok…ummm…fucking hell, what the fuck do I do?! Think Rose, THINK. Someone or something is in camp and I've got to deal with him…or her…or them. Ok, so weapons, and not just my bow and arrows. Good for walkers, bad for intimidating people, because I really don't want to have to splatter someone's brains in front of kids. Meaning I need my scary intimidating guns which are in my tent...so get in the tent and get that handled and then we'll figure out the rest._

Gathering up my courage, I sneak a quick look around the tent and don't see anybody, so staying low to the ground, I make my way around the tent and unzip it, hop inside, and re-zip is as fast as I can while making as little noise as possible. Once inside, I run over to my black duffle bag and find all my weapons stashed inside, just as I left them. I pull out my Mossburg 500, my Mossberg HS12, and my Beretta 92FS, quickly load all three of them as fast as I can. I shove the Berette into my waist band, empty out my bow and arrows from their holder and shove the 500 into it, and decide to carry the HS12 in my hands. Out of my bag I also grab my set of handcuffs and a few extra knives, just in case I get really desperate. Once I'm locked and loaded, I softly unzip my tent and step out, gun up and aimed as I check to my left and right, moving my way up to the fire pit. I make my way around the tents, continually checking and edging my way around until I'm up behind Lori, Carl, and Sha—Rick's tent, which is the furthest in to the center of camp. Suddenly there is a gunshot, and I nearly shit myself. After a few second though, I notice that my breathing is erratic and I quickly slam a hand over my mouth to stop my breathing from being so loud, because the last fucking thing I need is Merle hearing something and deciding to investigate.

_Oh sweet mother in heaven, someone was just shot...time to fucking kick it in to gear._

After a few seconds of calming myself down, I lay my gun on the ground for a second, and take a look at the center of camp. I find everyone there, huddled around each other, their hands and feet tied together with Merle Dixon standing in front of them, a smoking pistol in the air, as his raspy pedophile laughter spews out of his mouth.

"What? Did I scare y'all?"

No one answers, but I can hear the soft crying of Sophia as Carol pulls her into her chest as much as she can.

"Good, ya' ought ta' be scared. You sorry ass, motherfucking dicks left me out on that roof ta' die, and now I'm gonna leave y'all ta' die jus' like ya' did ta' me, see how many of ya' survive without Officer Happy here. Cause see, me and Daryl, well we was planning on doin' this any way, but like always, the son of a bitch is out runnin' after nothin'. Fucking retard, but when he and the rest of um git back, we gonna shoot um dead and leave with all yer shit."

"Merle, just…just hold on a second! We didn't leave you on that roof…"

But before Dale can finish his sentence, Merle takes two quick steps over to him and smacks him in the face with the butt of the gun, knocking Dale unconscious. Amy gives a scream and now Carl is starting to cry, and I almost run out, but I hold myself back.

_You have to wait for the right moment._

Merle laughs again,

"Stupid, sorry son of a bitch. Old man should learn ta' keep his mouth shut." He says, going over and starting to kick poor Dale in the stomach, obviously getting enjoyment out of his total power.

Taking my eyes off Merle, I look around until I find Shane, who is sitting up near the front, his head leaking blood like crazy as he struggles against his bonds, trying to get out so he can save Dale. As he's moving and twisting around, by some miracle he looks up and I catch eye contact with him. He pauses and I mouth "Distract. Merle." as I point at him, his back turned to both of us while he's having a good old time taunting the Morales children for being, "pathetic, scumbag, wetbacks". Shane gives a solemn nod before turning his attention to Merle.

"Hey one-handed, backwoods goat fucker, why don't you leave them alone and untie my hands so we can handle this, man to man."

Merle spins around, his face turning red as strides over to Shane, lowering himself so he's eye level with him.

"What did ya' say ta' me?"

"You heard me you slut fucking hillbilly." Shane says, spitting in Merle's face at the end of his sentence. That loogie is the last straw, and I watch as Merle wails back and starts mercilessly beating the crap out of Shane, his full attention turned to knocking the life out of him. Knowing that this is my chance, I move my way out from behind the tent, take aim, and fire a round right into Merle's calve. He gives a yell before dropping to the dirt, screaming and crying out. I make a sprint over and point my gun right at Merle's head, placing my foot on his neck to try and hold him steady.

"Don't you fucking move or I swear to God, I'll blow your brains all the way to China." I warn, my voice as hard and cold as a Russian winter. He squirms around for a few moments more before opening his eyes and seeing me. A wide and malicious grin breaks across his face

"Well lookie here, if it ain't that sweet piece of ass Darlina found in a tree. How ya' doin' sugartits?"

"Lot better than you."

"I'd be a lot better if ya' took yer panties off and gave me a ride there."

"Go fuck yourself Merle, I'd rather be a walker. Now you son of bitch, you're going to listen to me and you better fucking do what I say or I'm going to shoot you in you in the other leg to make sure you don't get away and then wait around to let Shane and Rick handle you, and they sure as hell aren't going to be as nice I am. You're going to lay your ass right here, while I give these people a few knives to cut themselves out of their bonds, and once they're out, Lori and Andrea are going to come over and your legs and feet together and you're going to let them, got it sugartits?"

Merle stares and then begins laughing; shaking his head all around like me threatening to kill him is one big joke. Once he's calmed himself down enough, he looks me strait in the eye and says,

"Go to hell bitch."

"Remember, you asked for it." I warn before spinning my 500 around and ramming the butt of it down into Merle's face three times, knocking him out.

"Stupid fucker." I say, staring down at him with a look of disgust before pulling my foot off his neck and running over to the terrified campers. I pull my knife out as I do and make my way to Lori, cutting her free first. Once she's undone, I hand her two knives,

"Go cut Andrea free, give her one of these, and then go start on everybody else." I order.

She gives a nod and goes to cut Andrea free as I turn and pull off Carl, Carol, Sophia, and Jacqui's ropes. After the three of us have got everybody out, I turn to the group,

"Who here knows how to tie strong, secure knots?"

"We do, Amy and I…our dad taught us." Andrea says as her and Amy step forward. I pick a pile of rope up off the ground and hand it to her,

"You go make sure Merle isn't going to be moving anytime soon"

She nods and the two turn and start to bind Merle's legs together. After taking care of that, I turn and see Jacqui, Lori, Morales, and Miranda, Morales wife, sitting Dale and Shane up against the side of the RV. I rush, examining Shane first. His face is bruised and bloody, and I crouch down, gently pulling his head up so I can look him in the eyes,

"Shane…SHANE. Look at me."

His head rolls around for a second before he shakes it a little bit and focuses on me.

"Can you breathe?"

He coughs for a few seconds before nodding his head,

"Y-yeah, I can breathe."

"How many fingers am I holding up?" I ask, sticking three fingers up by my face.

"Three."

"Follow my finger, ok?"

I move it from my left to my right a few times, watching to make sure that Shane's eyes follow it with no delay. Once I'm satisfied I stop and breathe a sigh of relief.

"Well you don't have any major head injuries, but don't go to sleep, no matter how tired you get, got it? And, here," I say, ripping the lower half of my tank top off and then into halves. I hand Shane one of the halves, "Press this on your face until you stop squirting out blood."

I then move my way over to Dale, who is still knocked out. I open his eyes, blocking them from the sun for a second and then moving it to make sure that his pupils are dilating, which they are. I remove his hat to look at his head and find a red gash right on the very top. Not really knowing what else to do, I decide to go the old fashion way of waking a knocked out person up,

"Somebody get me some water, now."

Lori runs into her tent, since it's the closest, and brings out a bottle full of water, handing it over to me. I open it and pour a huge splash of it onto Dale's face. His eyes fly open and he lays there looking up at me for a few seconds,

"Rose? What am I doing here?"

"Merle knocked you out Dale, but it's alright. I took care of him, and he's all tied up."

"Oh, good…oh, I just got…really dizzy." Dale says, reaching his hands up to grab his head, "I think I'm going to puke." He says before turning to his left and vomiting. Everyone else jumps away, but I stay crouched in front of him, waiting for him to finish. Once I'm sure he's done, I hand the water bottle to him and let him take a few gulps.

"Don't worry, that should be going away soon. Now just like I told Shane, don't you dare try to take any kind of nap for the next few hours. I'm not sure if you two have concussions or not, so we're not going to take any chances. Jacqui, come here." I say, pressing the other half of my tank top into her hand,

"You press on his wound with enough pressure to help stop the bleeding, got it?"

She accepts the ripped piece of clothing and gently presses it onto Dale's wound. I turn and find that Andrea and Amy have just finished knotting Merle together. I walk over and look down on him,

"Morales! Hey, come here and help the three of us move him over to that tree." I say, nodding my head at one of the trees beside Daryl's RV. He runs over and between the three of us, we scoot him over and sat up against it, eventually tying him to it. I wipe the sweat from my brow and turn to find Lori behind me,

"Where are the rest of them…Rick and the others?"

"Dipshit over here stole our van, so we were forced to run back. But T-Dogg wasn't able to keep up and ended up falling way behind. Rick and I were at the front of the group and Daryl said he figured that Merle would be coming back for revenge so we had to think of a way to be both at camp while also waiting for T-Dogg to catch up. That's when the two of us decided that I should run ahead, since I was the fastest, and make sure everything was ok, and if it wasn't, to take care of it."

Lori face is the epitome of worry, and she walks away without saying another word. I walk back out to the center of camp and find Shane has stopped bleeding and has stood up, eyes hungry for revenge. He bustles his way over towards Merle, but I step in front of him and stop him in his tracks,

"Shane, don't. We'll deal with him once Daryl and Rick get back, got it? Until then, he stays roped onto the tree without another injury."

"Rose, that raciest asshole doesn't deserve to be breathing…"

"Trust me, I know. But you aren't judge and jury. Merle is my prisoner, considering I was the one who took him down, so I say what happens to him, and right now, he's being left alone."

Shane runs a hand through his hair, obviously frustrated, but he'll just have to be frustrated because I'm not letting him kill Merle…at least not without Daryl here to defend his brother.

"The second they get back, we're dealing with this shit."

"Fine, whatever you say. Now tell me exactly how the fuck he got the jump on you guys."

"Not much to say. Everything was calm and fine, Amy and Andrea had just brought up a shit ton of fish from the quarry lake when all of the sudden, Lori comes around the corner with this…petrified look on her face as Merle strutted after her, his pistol cocked and ready to fire at the back of her head. I pulled out my gun, but Merle swore he'd shoot Lori right there if all of us didn't come over and lay down our weapons at his feet, which we did, of course. Then he ordered all of us to get to the center of camp and forced us to tie each other up, waiting until everyone was done good and tight before shoving Lori down and tying her up too. That's when he started spouting off about how we had left him on that roof and when I tried to speak up, he punched me in the face before shooting into the air as a warning. Then…"

"I was here, I know the rest. Well, everyone's still breathing and alive, which is a good thing."

"I guess, but now that I've answered your question, you answer mine. What the hell happened in Atlanta and where the hell are Rick and the others?"

"Well see…" and I then proceed to tell him everything that happened in Atlanta, from Merle's severed hand to the Vatos to finding the van missing, every little detail is told, but since you all have already been over that once, I'll just skip ahead to after I'm finished. As I'm ending my story, the sun is setting and I suddenly smell food being cooked. My stomach makes a sound like a dying whale and it's then that I realize how freaking hungry I am,

"Mmmmm, I'm starving, let's go get some food and wait for the rest of them to show up. They should be here any minute." I say, turning Shane around and making a bee line for a plate of fish. I grab my plate and scarf it down in no time flat, and I'll tell you, it was honestly one of the best tasting meals I have ever had the chance to pass through my lips.

* * *

**Hey guys! I know I don't normally put notes on the end of my stories, but I just wanted to let you guys know two things real quick:**

**1) Thank you guys for reading and leaving all the amazing/spectacular/thought provoking reviews (particularly to marie190, walter-needz-luv-2, HermioneandMarcus, HumanDustbin, A Fearless Knight's Fairytale, and Xxnikkigirl123xX...you guys are freaking fanatastic and please continue to leave comments, it makes me all bubbly and giggly in my heart :D), and just for reading my story in general. It honestly is one of the best parts of my day when I get to come on here and see that you all are enjoying the story :)  
**

**2) For those of you that don't know, I just graduated high school, and the college that I will be attending in the fall requires all incoming freshmen to spend two days and one night there in order to offer them a preview into what college life really is. I, unfortunately, can't take my laptop with me, which means I won't be able to post new chapters until Sunday. I'm really sorry guys, but I hope this longer chapter makes up for it :) So stay happy and healthy and continue to be your crazy, awesome, fabulous selves and I'll hear from you guys on Sunday. Bye!**

**Love, Emily :D**


	20. Chapter 20

Even though I finished my meal in 3.8 seconds, everyone else decides to slowly enjoy their dinner, and we all end up sitting around the campfire in a huge circle, merrily eating and telling stories about our lives before the outbreak to entertain everybody. I finish telling the story about how when I was 17, I took a dance class in school and one day ended up ripping my pants all the way up the seam in the back and having to walk out of school with my friend behind me so no one would see my leopard print underwear that said "Wild Thing" when I notice that Ed isn't joining in on our little pow wow. I let T-Dogg start talking about the time he ripped his shirt in front of a girl or something like that before leaning over to Dale, who was on my left, and asking about him

"Where the hell is Ed? It's not like him to let Carol and Sophia out of his sight."

"Well Ed and Shane had a bit of a…discussion today down by the quarry."

"And by discussion you mean…?" I ask, looking over at him as I pour some of the water from my bottle into my mouth.

"Well, to put it plainly, Shane beat his face to a pulp for hitting Carol."

The instant shock over what Dale just said causes my throat to spasm for a second and I end up choking on the water that I was trying to swallow, staring wide eyed at Dale.

"H-h-he what?!"

"From the way Andrea told it, her and the other women were down in the lake doing laundry, talking and laughing, when Ed came up and started insulting them, saying stuff like it wasn't 'his job' to do the laundry or any 'women' work. Sick of him not pulling his weight, Andrea confronted him about it and he insulted her, saying she was a…oh what did he say… 'uppity, smart-mouthed bitch'. Then he tried to drag Carol away and the women wouldn't let him. That's when he hauled back and hit Carol on the cheek. Shane saw and decided to do something about it. Said that if he ever caught Ed smacking anyone in camp around, including Carol or Sophia…well, he said he's kill him."

"Holy fuck…how come I had to miss this! I'd have given up half my guns to have been given the chance to give that dick headed kiddy pervert a few kicks to the groin."

"Whoa, kiddy pervert…that's a bit extreme, don't you think Rose?"

"No, it's really not. I think we should kick him out on his ass with nothing but his two fucking hands."

Dale cocks an eyebrow at me, a worried look crossing his face,

"Something wrong? You're not the kind to be overly cruel to those who haven't done something to deserve it."

I take a quick look around to make sure that nobody is listening to the two of us and lean in closer to Dale, so I'm right up by his ear,

"Don't say anything right now, I'm bringing it up tomorrow to everyone else, but since Sophia is here the last thing I want to do is embarrass her, got it?"

Dale turns his head ever so slightly to the right and nods as I continue,

"I was talking to Carl a few days ago and he told me that Sophia said something about Ed doing some really inappropriate things to her, like some very adult things, and I'm not going to just fucking stand around while he does it. So my plan was to bring it up to Rick, Shane, Daryl, T-Dogg, Lori, Andrea, and you and between the eight of us, figure out what to do."

Dale turns so he's staring me right in the eye, his face a grim mask.

"Ok, we'll get that fucker before he knows what's hit him."

"DALE!" I exclaim, a small smile escaping onto my face before I bite my lip to try and make it go away, knowing this isn't a comical situation at all, but I just can't help it

"What?"

"It's just, well I've never heard you speak like that and I'm just a bit in shock over it. It's like the time I heard my sweet, little old grandma tell someone to fuck off while we were driving. Kind of takes you by surprise."

The two of us look at each other for a few silent moments before we both start cracking up, laughing so hard we end up having tears streaming down our faces. The entire circle goes quiet after a few seconds and just stares at the two of us.

"Ummm, Dale? Rose? You two ok?" Andrea asks, her tone bathed in amusement at our raging giggles.

"Yeah…y-yeah! We're…we're fine." I say, catching my breath as I wipe the tears from the corner of my eyes, "Whew, thanks Dale, I don't know how long it's been since I've laughed that hard."

"Well, now that you two snorting buffoons are finished, Dale, I've been meaning to ask you a question, it's been driving me crazy." Morales says.

"What?"

"I see you every day, the same time, winding that watch like a village priest saying mass."

"I've been wondering that myself." Jacqui says from a few seats down, setting her plate on the ground, "Unless I've misread the signs, the world seems to have come to an end. At least hit a speed bump for a good long while."

"I think I'm missing the point…" Dale laughs, taking a swig of water.

"Every day you sit and wind that watch for…well for nothing." Morales pipes up.

"Time… it's important to keep track, isn't it? The days at least. Don't you think, Andrea? Back me up here. I like… I like what, um, a father said to son when he gave him a watch that had been handed down through generations. He said, 'I give you the mausoleum of all hope and desire, which will fit your individual needs no better than it did mine or my father's before me; I give it to you not that you may remember time, but that you may forget it for a moment now and then and not spend all of your breath trying to conquer it.' "

A moment of silence creeps by before Andrea looks up at Dale and says,

"You're so weird."

The entire group falls into a fit of laughter with Dale in the center shaking his head with his eyes closed, as if he can't believe that this group of youngsters is mocking him, but he has smile on his face on his face the entire time,

"It's not me. It's Faulkner. William Faulkner. Maybe my bad paraphrasing."

"Aww, I kind of like it Dale, bad paraphrasing and all." I say, grinning at him.

"Thanks Rose, but I'm afraid you might be the only one."

As we continue to talk, Amy gets up and starts making her way off towards the RV.

"Where are you going?" Andrea inquires, staring up at her sister.

"I have to pee. Jeeze, try and be discreet around here…"

"I'm pretty sure discreet went around the same time flushable toilets did!" I shout after her, the entire group bursting out into chuckles once more.

"You know, I haven't had a night like for years," I say when the laughing finally settles down, "It's almost…almost like there is no such thing as walkers…like life is almost as it was before all this started to happen, just friends, food, and happiness."

"Yeah…it's nice isn't it?" Lori says. Everyone else murmurs there agreement before going back to talking, but for some reason I want to be silent for a while.

I end up looking upwards and immediately find the only three constellations I actually know: The Big Dipper, the Northern Star (which I guess isn't technically a constellation but I'm no astrologer, so to me it's a constellation), and Orion's Belt. It's hard to believe that despite everything that is going on down here, all the death and disease, every night I can look up at the sky and find those three small patterns of lights that have stayed hanging in the sky. I give a small sigh of longing for the past, where the only thing I really had to worry about was making sure that my car insurance and rent were paid on time when I hear a rustle out by the RV. I bring my head back down and really listen for a second. I hear the rustle again, this time louder.

"Sounds like Merle's up, I'll be right back." I say, standing up and grabbing a flashlight before crossing the circle and making my way towards the tree where I left Merle tied. I flick on the flashlight and go over by the tree, however when I get over there, Merle isn't there.

"What the fuck?" I say to myself, leaning down and picking up the rope, examining it, finding that it's been split by a hunting knife.

"Oh Jesus fucking Christ, there is no way in fucking hell he escaped!" I yell, standing up and quickly scanning the light around, checking the nearby trees to make sure that my mind didn't go all goofy for a second and mistake one tree for another. I run a little deeper into the woods and shine my flashlight all over the ground, thinking that maybe I can find his trail and then wait for Daryl to get back and the two of us can go grab him out of whatever tree his ass is hiding in. But deep in the pit of my stomach, I just know that somehow, someway, Merle motherfucking Dixon cut his way out of the ropes we had him bound in, with one damn hand, and managed to get away without one damn person in the whole fucking camp hearing. As I'm searching the ground, I suddenly hear someone from back at camp scream bloody murder, which is soon followed by a chorus of more shrieks.

"FUCK!" I say, thinking that Merle has circled his way around camp and is now killing everyone and everything in sight as I'm out here blindly searching for his sorry ass in the woods. I sprint my way back, pulling the Beretta that was still in my waist band out, and whipping my way around the RV. As I do, I bump into something disgustingly squishy and knock myself backwards a few feet.

"Who th—" I start to say, before hearing a gurgled moan from the body in front of me as it turns around and revels itself to be a walker.

"Oh shit." I say before raising my gun and shooting the fucker in the head. I make my way around the RV and find that the entire camp has been infiltrated by a huge pack of 35 walkers. I stare, frozen for a second as I watch everyone scatter and scream and get eaten, before my anger kicks me out of my shock. Out of instinct, I search for something to climb so that I can have the advantage of being up high and seeing everything in action; I look over and find that I'm on the side of the RV with a ladder up to the roof. I scramble my way up it and take aim, ready to kill as many undead fuckers as I can in order to try and soothe my anger. I look around and find Shane corralling Sophia, Carol, Miranda, the two Morales kids, Lori and Carl behind him as a pack of five walkers starts to circle and slowly trap them.

I fire three rounds into a few of the walkers' heads as I watch Shane take care of the other two. With a second to pause, I yell,

"SHANE! GET THEM UP HERE!"

He turns and finds me on the roof of the RV, a look of relief flooding his eyes before pushing the other four towards me. "Go! I've got to help Dale!" Shane says as he runs and starts firing off more shots from his hand gun. The group of seven quickly scrambles their way to the side of the RV as I keep my gun up, finger on the trigger, following them to make sure nothing even gets close. When they are finally by the ladder, the two young Morales children, Carl, and Sophia make their way up. Once they're close enough, I reach down and grab their arm, yanking them up the rest of the way. After I pull Carl, who is the last child, up, I quickly take the group of them as far into the middle as I can get them,

"You four lay down and cover your ears, got it? You don't get up until you're told."

The four kids nod before doing exactly what I said. I spin around and find that Miranda, Carol and Lori have both also made it onto the top, and I breathe a small sigh of relief, glad that I've helped save at least these seven,

"GO COVER YOUR KIDS!" I yell as I run back over to the edge of the roof, ready to aim and fire at some more walkers. When I look down off the top of the RV, I find Dale and Jim standing with each other as a horde of five or six walkers quickly shambles their way towards them. They seem to be alright until Dale fires his last shot, leaving the two only armed with a baseball bat and a useless gun. I swiftly raise my Beretta and kill four out of the five, but when I aim and go to shoot the fifth, I hear the loud clink of an empty chamber.

"Shit!" I say, throwing the gun to the ground as I reach around to my back to grab my 500 out of its casing. When I grab at it though, I find only air where my gun should be. I panic for a second before remembering I had taken my 500 out of its leather pouch and sat it on the ground, along with my HS12, when I had went to eat to make sure I literally didn't shoot my ass off. Thankfully, Dale was able to smash the last of the geeks in the face with the butt of his rifle, giving him and Jim the chance to make a run for the inside of the RV. However, I still know that I can't just leave my guns down there, unused yet locked and loaded. Scanning the ground, I find both of them down by the still burning fire and decide to go after them. I turn to the group of mothers hovering over their children,

"I'll be back! Stay put!" I yell before ripping a knife off my thigh and rushing down the ladder.

I look around for a quick second, seeing that my path to the fire is as clear as it is going to get, and make a run for it. Half way there though, I hear a grumbled snarl and turn my head to see two walkers running, or at least what I suppose is their version of running, after me. The fear I hadn't known was present makes itself known in my stomach as the adrenaline starts pumping through my veins, causing me to run even faster. I finally reach the fire, but as I go to reach for my guns, I trip and stumble over a log someone had dropped on the ground when they ran, causing me to fall to my knees and the knife to fly out of my grasp. Knowing that those walkers were hot on my tail, I crawl forward, arms thrashing out as I reach the few feet to grab my HS12 when one of the two geeks grabs ahold of my foot. I turn my body back around and kick the thing in the arm, causing the bones to shatter and splinter through the skin, giving it a weak spot. With every ounce of strength, I pull my foot away and with the force from it, I end up ripping the little shithead's rotting arm off of its body. The momentum from the pulling gives me enough umph to do a shoulder roll backwards and end up right side up with the guns to my right. I grab the HS12 and hurriedly stand up, firing as the undead fucker comes to stand a few inches in front of my face. I raise my gun and aim again at the next one running at me, but before I can pull the trigger again, it stops moving, a bolt sticking out of its forehead. It stays standing for a few seconds before falling to the ground, dead as a doornail, reveling Daryl standing behind it like some kind of twisted magic trick. That's when I get the chance to look around and find that the other members of our little rescue party have finally made their way back to camp with Rick's guns and are helping kill the rest of the walkers. I rush over to Daryl, giving a nod as I come to stand at his back, the two of us standing back to back with each other as we take out six more walkers between us.

After 15 minutes of pure hell, the last gun fire is shot as the final walker dies, causing the air to ring with silence. No one moves for what seems like ages, but the quiet is broke by a small, broken wail from in front of the RV. Everyone turns and stares as Andrea cries over the Amy, who has died from a walker bite. Being one of the only women on the ground, I walk over and try to wrap my arms around her, since women normally get the most comfort out of the touch of another, only to have a flattened palm reach out and strike my cheek. I pull back, tears trickling down my face as the sting from the slap resonates through my face. Through the tears I manage to refocus my vision and find Andrea in front of me, her face a mask of anger and hurt.

"Don't you fucking touch me." She seethes.

"HEY! Don't you fuckin' slap her fer tryin' ta' help." I hear as Daryl comes around and stands between the two of us. Andrea pulls a handgun out from behind her back and aims it right at Daryl's face,

"Don't you even try and protect that slut you hillbilly! She was out hunting that sorry ass motherfucking hick you call a brother when those walkers came from nowhere, and now my sister is dead because of it!" Andrea screams, her rage and hurt crashing through her dam and flooding her face.

"You lil' bitch, I swear ta' God I'll—" Daryl starts to yell back before I duck under his arm and now coming to stand between him and Andrea.

"Stop it, both of you. Andrea, I was just trying to help. I know that you're hurt and I was just going to try and comfort you the best way I know how. I'm sorry that I invaded your personal space at a delicate time without asking. Now please, just put down the gun and we'll all leave you in peace."

Andrea glares at me for a second before the anger melts off her face and she shakily drops the gun and turns to Amy's corpse, grabbing its head and gently rocking back and forth with it as she bawls. Everyone turns away and makes their way to either their tents or one of the many corpses now littering the camp. Daryl doesn't move though, his rage at Andrea's actions still coursing through his blood, but I grab him by the hand and pull him over to the fire, each of us sitting down on the ground. Neither of us says anything, we just sit and stare at the fire for a while, eyes transfixed on the flames as they jump and move.

"Merle was here." I say, finally turning to look at Daryl.

"And…?"

"And he cut his way out of the ropes without any of us knowing and ran."

"Figured he wouldn' stay long, always has a way out."

"Seems like it."

Out of the darkness the two of us hear a sudden scream coming from the tents and we stand up, quickly making our way to the source. We find the shrieking coming from inside Carol, Ed, and Sophia's tent, and throw the door of the tent open to find Sophia standing in shock at the corner of the tent while Carol, who is on her knees, continues screaming at the top of her lungs in front of mauled and dead Ed. I make my way over to Sophia and pull her close, shielding her eyes from her father.

"Don't look Sophia, come on, you don't need to see this." I say as I force her to bury her head in my chest, tears falling from her eyes once I've got her in a hug. I then turn to the now silent Carol and walk over to her, placing my hand on her shoulder,

"You and Sophia go over to my tent, I'll grab your stuff and you can sleep there for the night." I say as I help her up and lead her and the small girl wrapped around my waist out of their tent. Once outside I gently tug Sophia away from me and hand her over to her mother as the two of them go off to my tent wrapped in each other's embrace. I turn and go back inside, finding Daryl standing over Ed's body, his crossbow cocked and aimed at the dead man's face. I walk up behind him and place my hand on his forearm. His whole body tenses and he whips around, anger sparking in his eyes, but I'm so tired from seeing death all day and tonight, that I don't even react; I just stare at him with weary eyes.

"Leave that fucker until morning; we've seen too much blood shed for the day."

He lowers his bow and gives a solemn nod before making his way back out of the tent without even a small goodbye for me. I shake my head, too fatigued to try and figure out what is wrong with him, before grabbing a few pillows and blankets that aren't covered in blood from the tent and making my way over to my own which will be filled to the brim with sadness, grief, and exhaustion, as three fragmented girls who have seen too much pain for one day, fall asleep.


	21. Chapter 21

As I'm sleeping, my vivid and somewhat strange dreams start to make themselves prominent once more.

_**I'm walking through unknown woods on a worn and old dirt path that has obviously had feet treading on it for years. As I walk, I look around and for miles and miles all I see are bloomed pink roses everywhere, stretching out until it reaches the horizon. I crouch down and examine on of them, and find that unlike any wild roses I've seen before, this particular breed is completely thornless. I try and tug one of them out of the ground, but no matter how hard I yank, it stays put, like someone cemented its roots to the ground. Slightly disgruntled by the stubborn flowers, I stand up and start walking down the trail set in front of me. After following it for a while, the path abruptly ends and I stop right at the edge, not wanting to move forward.**_

**I can't go on; I'll crush the flowers.**_** I think, staring down at the hundreds of them that sit at my feet. **_

_**As the thought crosses my mind though, the roses, as if on some sort of mental command, part like the Red Sea, giving me a clear path to walk through them without treading on them. I don't immediately move forward, somewhat freaked out by the fact that I just ordered a plant to get out of the way and it listened, but eventually my curiosity overcomes my caution and I gingerly make my way through the newly made trail. I follow it, through multiple twists and turns that lead me out to the point where I can look around and no longer see the trees of the forest, just the vast sea of uninterrupted pink. I go farther and soon the roses are no longer tiny, gentle flowers, but enormous Redwood sized trees whose buds stretch up to the clouds. I stare up at the sky for a moment, but the leaves of the rose closest to me reach out and push me onward, obviously not having the patience to let me stand and stare in amazement.**_

"_**Fine, fine, no need to get pushy." I say, glaring at the leaves for a moment before I keep walking on through this jungle of gigantic flowers. Eventually my trail opens up to a small open field of grass, where Daryl sits plopped in the center. I make my way over to him and look down. He's grasping the most beautiful rose in his hands, but unlike the ones I've seen for miles and miles, this one is a deep and beautiful red rose covered in thorns, however Daryl is clinging to the stem so tightly that I see trickles of blood running from his hands and down his arms.**_

"_**Daryl! You're bleeding!" I frantically exclaim. I make my way so that I'm in front of him and bend down, my small hands on top of his.**_

"_**Let go of that rose, you're hurting yourself." I say, trying to unclench his fierce clutch on the flowers so I can see his hands and clean them up. Daryl shakes his head no though, refusing to let go of the rose for whatever reason, ignoring everything I've said.**_

"_**Daryl, LET GO!"**_

"_**NO. Not 'til I see if she loves me."**_

"_**She who?"**_

"_**I don't know…jus' she."**_

"_**Fine, how do you figure out if she loves you?" I ask, growing impatient at his childishness.**_

"_**Pluck the petals."**_

"_**As in 'she loves me…she loves me not'?"**_

"_**Yeah."**_

"_**Are you fucking serious?"**_

"_**No, I'm jokin' with ya…COURSE I'M BEIN' SERIOUS!"**_

"_**Jesus H. Christ…then get to it!" I shout, unable to control my anger at this point. Daryl seems to not notice though, releasing the thorn studded stem and bringing his right hand up. For a good 10 minutes, I listen as he intently stares at the flower and drones on and on, saying "she loves me." and "she loves me not." over and over and over again until I'm pretty sure that if I hear the phrase one more time, I'm going to rip the head of the flower off and chuck in into the great wide forest of roses. Finally, he reaches the last small petal left on the rose. He pauses this time, bringing his eyes up so that he's staring me in the eyes. With a small pull he yanks the last petal off and out of his lips tumbles the phrase "She loves me."**_

I wake up to a rough shake from someone grabbing my shoulder and I get confused for a second, still stuck somewhere between dreamland and reality.

"Git up, I need yer help movin' bodies." Daryl says.

"Come on Redneck, five more minutes." I groan, turning my back to him and snuggling back down into my sleeping bag as I gently drift back off to sleep. Before I know what's happening though, I'm stunned awake once more as the sleeping bag is suddenly ripped off my body, along with all the body heat that had been encased in it over the course of the night. The shock from the sudden rush of cold air makes me fly upwards and stare at him, eyebrows up and wide eyed as I resist the urge to place my heads around his throat

"What the fuck!"

"Up, now. Those geeks are makin' camp smell like hell." Daryl orders before turning around and walking back out of the tent. I rub my eyes, grumbling about my very rude wake up call, eventually coming to terms with the fact that I have to get up and help. I change my clothes, another set of cargo shorts and an ACDC t-shirt, and step out of my tent. When I step out though, my nose is greeted by the lovely smell of rotting flesh, and I throw my arm up over my face, gagging. I give myself a minute to adjust to the stink and make my way to the center of camp. When I make it there, it seems like everyone is up and about, moving bodies, except Andrea who is still just sitting in front of the RV, Amy's face cupped in her hands. My instinct is to go over and try to comfort her again, but I'd rather not have a gun pulled on me again today, so I ignore it and go over to Daryl, Rick, and Lori. I pick up on their conversation as I stop beside Daryl,

"Y'all can't be serious. Let that girl hamstring us?"

"And what do you suggest?" Rick questions.

"Take the shot. Clean, in the brain from here. Hell, I can hit a turkey between the eyes from this distance."

"No." I say, causing Daryl to turn and glare at me. I place my hands on my hips and glare back, "For fuck's sake, let her grieve."

"That dead girl's a time bomb, it's only gonna be a little bit for she starts tryin' ta' chow down on one of us."

"That 'dead girl' is Amy, and when the time comes and she becomes a walker, we let Andrea handle it."

"And is she don't?"

"Then you can shoot her, but until then, let her be." I order, leaning down to grab the arms of some dead geek lying in front of me, "Now help me move this fucker to the fire."

Daryl huffs, obviously not happy about us letting Amy just sit over there when we all know that she's eventually going to turn into a walker, but he's just going to have to suck it up, because I'm sure as hell not letting our humanity fly out the window that fast. We go to pick up one body though, and I recognize the face…she was a girl who stayed here at camp, but I never really got her name. I try to remember something about her, but all that comes to mind is the fact that last night I noticed she had a giggle that sounded like tinkling bells. The two of us reach down and lift her up, making our way towards the pile when Glenn appears between us and the mound of undead, disbelief coloring his face,

"What are you guys doing?! This pile is for geeks, our people go over there."

"Wait, what? We have two piles? Daryl, what the hell?! You didn't tell me we were supposed to be separating these guys into different groups!" I yell.

"What's the difference, they're all infected." Daryl responds, shrugging his shoulders as if it's not really a big deal.

"Our people go in that row over there. We don't burn them! We bury them. Understand? Our people go in that row over there."

"Got it Glenn, we'll be more careful and make sure that we don't put anyone from camp here, right Daryl?" I say, tugging the body my way, directing us to the other stack of bodies that are being buried.

"Ya' reap what ya' sow."

"Shut up Daryl." Glenn threatens as he watches over us, making sure that we put the girl in the right pile.

"Y'all left my brother fer dead. Ya' had this coming." Daryl responds as we give a small swing and toss the corpse on the top of the heap.

"Knock it off, everyone had a rough night last night and the last thing we need is you two trying to kill each other."

Glenn doesn't respond, just walks off all upset. My comforting, motherly side rears her head again and I have to practically beat her down to stop her from making me go after Glenn, knowing that I have to help Daryl finish up here. For the rest of the morning we move bodies from around the camp to both of the piles, each of us keeping our mouths shut. We just finish throwing the last body on a pile when we hear Jacqui screaming,

"A walker got him! A walker bit Jim!"

Daryl, Dale, Shane, Rick, T-Dogg, Morales, Lori, and I all run over to the two, Jacqui keeping her distance from Jim, a shovel up for protection. Jim looks terrified, his eyes leaking a few tears as he places his hands in front of him, trying to defend himself from anything or anyone who might come near him. I look down and notice the fresh blood on his shirt, and my heart sinks, knowing that whatever is about to happen won't end well

"I'm okay, I'm okay!" he pleads to all of us.

"Show it to us." Shane orders.

Jim refuses to lift his shirt and show us though, and looks like he's about to run. Not knowing what else to do, I start trying to bargain with him,

"Jim, Jim…look at me. We're not going to hurt you, we just want to look." I say, taking a small step forward, getting slightly closer to Jim. He doesn't move backwards, but I pause, not wanting him to try and run and then end up getting tackled by one of the men.

"NO. You're all going to kill me as soon as you see it. I don't want to die, I don't want to die…please!"

"Jim, I swear to you, no one is going to try and kill you right now, we just want to look at your wound." I say, taking another step forward, ever so slowly closing the distance between the two of us.

"You may not, but Daryl sure as hell looks like he's about to shoot a bolt through my head. Please, please, I'm okay, I swear, the thing barley got me, maybe I won't be…"

"Shhh, Jim, it's alright, I'm not going to let Daryl kill you, ok? Calm down…if you don't want anyone else coming near you, then what about just me? Let me see it, just me."

The poor man looks at me, his eyes a pool of fear and defeat, before nodding his head,

"You…you can look."

I gingerly walk the last few steps so that I'm right in front of Jim. I look into his eyes and move my hand up to caress his cheek, his eyes closing, moving ever so slightly into my touch,

"It's alright Jim, no one is going to hurt you while I'm here."

He nods his head, a few tears falling from his eyes as he does. I remove my hand from his cheek and down to the hem of his shirt. I gently lift the fabric up and reveal a large bite wound on his left side. I look up at him, a sad smile forming on my lips. I step aside and show the rest of them the unsightly bite mark left on Jim's stomach. Before even a moment has passed, Daryl has his crossbow raised, aimed at Jim. Jim, fear taking over, drops to his knees behind me, crouching down with his hands over his head. My jaw clenches tight and I stand up straight, acting as Jim's shield.

"Daryl, put that fucking crossbow down."

"He's one a them."

"Not yet, he's still Jim and if you're going to try and kill him, you'll have to kill me first." I say, not wavering even an inch.

"Lil' Miss, move."

"No."

"Why don' ya' ever listen?" Daryl asks, unwillingly lowering his crossbow.

"Because I was taught to stand up for what I think is right, not to listen to whatever everyone else says."

I glare at him for a moment before turning myself around so I can look at Jim,

"Come on Jim, they aren't going to get you. Let me take you to your tent so you can lie down and rest for a while, ok?"

He looks up at me and nods his head. I extend my hand out and he tentatively accepts it, the two us working to pull him up right. Once he's standing, I keep a hold of his hand and guide him through the group of onlookers and taking Jim over to his tent. I open the door and get him inside, slowly helping lower him on to his sleeping bag. When he's finally down and comfortable, he turns his head and gives me a sad, small smile,

"Thank you, for everything."

"I was just doing what I thought was right, now get some sleep, I'll be back later to clean your bite and get some food into you, ok?"

He nods and then closes his eyes, sleeping claiming him quite quickly. I stare at him for a second, a few tears escaping my eyes before I quickly wipe them away and stand, leaving the tent. I walk back out to the group, who have moved themselves to sitting right beside the fire pit. Everyone stares as I walk over, and I plant myself right between Rick and Shane,

"He's fine, for now. Now the big question is, what are we going to do about this?"

"I say we put a pickax through his head, and dead girl's too, and be done with it."

"I promised Jim that we weren't going to hurt him, and I'm keeping the promise, we aren't killing him. I mean, come on Daryl, is that what you'd want if you were him? Your friends ramming a pickax in your skull?"

"Yeah, and I'd thank ya' while ya' did it."

"I hate to say it…and I never thought I actually would, but maybe Daryl's right." Dale says, crossing his arms in front of his chest.

"Dale, you can't be serious? Jim is your friend! I mean he hardly ever left your side and now you're going to treat him like he's some…rabid dog?!" I ask, not believing what I'm hearing.

"I'm not suggesting…"

"I agree with Rose. He's sick. A sick man. We start down this road, then where do we draw the line?" Ricks says, coming to my defense.

"The line's pretty damn clear Rick. Zero tolerance fer walkers or them ta' be."

"No, that area's all fairly grey, Daryl, now shut up and listen for a second. What if we get him help? I heard the C.D.C. was working on a cure." Rick says, determination to save Jim in his eyes.

"Man, that's a stretch right there." Shane says, shaking his head.

"Why? If there's any government left, any structure at all, they'd protect the C.D.C. at all costs, wouldn't they? I think it's our best shot. Shelter, protection…"

"Rick, listen man, you want all those things, right? I do too, okay? Now if they still exist, they'd be at a military base. Fort Benning."

"Whoa, wait, those two are what…100 miles apart?" I ask.

"That is right. But it's away from the hot zone. Now listen to me. If that place is operational, it'll be heavily armed. We'd be safe there." Shane persuades, trying to convince the rest of us to agree with his plan and not with Rick, but my doubts keep me firmly planted on the side of the C.D.C.

"The military were our first line of defense, and they fell just as quickly as the rest of society did Shane, there is no way in hell that Fort Benning isn't overrun by walkers by now."

"And how would you know?" Shane demands, his anger starting to boil just under the surface.

"I don't, but I trust Rick."

"Thanks, now listen, I know that it's a tough decision, but the C.D.C. is our best option. Food, shelter, a possible cure for Jim…"

"Y'all can go lookin' fer aspirin, but someone has got ta' have the balls ta' take care of this damn problem." Daryl says, spinning around and heading in the direction of Jim's tent, loading his crossbow as he goes. I sprint ahead of him and come to stand in between him and Jim's tent door.

"Move."

"No. I told you, I promised him and I'm fucking keeping it, so get." I order, my arms spread wide against the tent door, my small body trying to block as much of the door as I can. Daryl refuses to heed my warning though, and simply tries to shove me out of the way, but I cling to the flimsy material of the tent, not letting Daryl get in that easily. All of the sudden we both hear the click of a pistol being cocked, and freeze. I look behind Daryl and there stands Rick, his gun pointed right at Daryl's head.

"We don't kill the living." he says, his finger on the trigger, ready to pull if Daryl tries to get into the tent once more.

"Funny comin' from a guy who's got a gun pointed at my head."

"Daryl, sit that goddamn crossbow down, or so help me, I'll make you regret it." I shout, fed up with his stupid escapades.

With rage and defeat on his face, Daryl drops his crossbow to the ground. Rick stays frozen in place until I get the chance to crouch to the ground and snatch up the weapon. Once I've got the crossbow in my hands, he lowers his gun and steps away.

"Stay away from Jim's tent." Rick orders before walking back to the camp's center. While he leaves, Daryl and I just glare at each other, the fury seething from each of us making our rage almost palpable. I raise the crossbow up and he snatches it from my hands and stomping away. I shake my head and sit down outside the tent, guarding Jim. A few seconds after plopping down, Carl comes and sits down beside me.

"Hey Little Man."

"Hi Rose…why are you sitting outside of Jim's tent?"

"Because I'm guarding him…some of the other people in camp want to hurt Jim, but I'm not going to let them."

"Why do they want to hurt Jim?"

"Well…last night while trying to protect camp, Jim ended up getting bit by one of the walkers, and now a few of the men in camp think that the best thing to do is to try and kill Jim while he's still human so he can't come back as a walker himself." I say, looking over at Carl, whose eyes have grown three sizes in fear.

"We should kill him, I don't want anyone else to get hurt." Carl says. I shake my head and put my arm around Carl's shoulders, pulling him in close.

"No Carl, we shouldn't. Jim is still a human, and more importantly our friend, and since he's our friend we have to try and help him get better. Carl, do you know what it means to be humane?"

He shakes his head and I continue on,

"Humanity is the kindness and mercy that we have for others, like Jim or Amy. It can be worrying to try and show others who scare us compassion, but we should do it anyways."

"Why? If they scare us, isn't it easier to just not care about them?"

"We should care not because it is the easiest thing to do, but because it's the right thing to do. Understand?"

He nods his head and I lean over and rest my head on top of his. We sit around for around three hours, making sure that no one tries to get in and kill Jim when I hear a rustling around from inside. I quickly open the door and find Jim sitting up, sweat and pain covering his face. I turn to Carl,

"Go over to my tent and find the black backpack, there should be some medical stuff in it. Grab it and a green bottle of water that should be somewhere near it and bring it back here to me so I can clean up Jim's wound, ok?"

"Ok." He says, running away and towards my tent. I watch him leave for a second before crawling inside and help slowly pull Jim up. By the time I've got him sitting up, Carl has made it back with my backpack.

"Thanks Carl, that was really helpful." I say, smiling at him as I unzip the bag, "Now this is going to be kind of icky, so why don't you go sit outside or find Sophia and play?"

"No, I want to watch."

I stare at the young boy for a second, trying to figure out whether it is best to let him stay or not, but in the end I don't really see anything wrong with it.

"Fine, but just make sure you don't get too close to Jim's wound, alright?"

"Alright."

I nod and then reach inside the backpack, pulling out some hydrogen peroxide, gauze, a pair of scissors, latex gloves, Neosporin, and some medical tape. I scan the floor of the tent and find a stick lying on the ground beside me. I grab it and hold it up to Jim's mouth,

"I'm sure some of this is going to sting like hell, so bite this."

Jim nods and slowly unhinges his jaw and then clamps down on the wood. I throw the gloves on open my bottle of water. I pour some of it onto the bite mark and I hear Jim's breath hitch in pain,

"Shh, it's okay Jim. I'll do this as gently and quickly as I can."

I dump a bit more water on to it, getting it as clean as I can. Then I grab the hydrogen peroxide and open it,

"Now this is going to suck, but just push through it."

Jim shakes his head and I pour about a fifth of it out on him. Jim screams and yells through the stick, thrashing around at the pain, but I hold his torso as still as I can while the white bubbles from the peroxide disinfect and kill as many of the germs as it can. Once his pain has subsided and the bubbles have stopped fizzing, I slather him with Neosporin before wrapping the wound in gauze and securing it with medical tape. After I lay down the last strip of tape, I stand and carefully remove my gloves so that I don't touch any of the outside.

"Ok, I think you're all done. Now I'm going to go drop this stuff back off in my tent and get you some food and water. I'll be right back."

"O-ok." Jim manages to whisper out as I grab all of my things and Carl and I leave the tent. We walk in silence as we stroll over to my tent, but once we're there, Carl starts to talk,

"You're really good at taking care of people…were you a mom before this happened?"

"No, I didn't have the chance to have kids of my own. Guess I just have a really strong motherly instinct." I say, shoving my backpack into the tent before zipping it up again and heading towards the fire pit with him in tow.

"Oh…you should have some, you'd be really good at it."

I give a laugh, Carl's innocence at how unlikely me having kids in this world taking me by surprise.

"Maybe, but not anytime soon. Now I see Sophia sitting over by the fire all by herself looking sad, why don't you go make sure she's ok?" I suggest, stopping the two of us from walking.

"Ok, see you later." He says before running off and sitting beside her, trying to cheer her up the way only a kid can.


	22. Chapter 22

**Um...hi guys? I know, I know, it's been forever, or so it seems since I posted a chapter but I swear I had good reasoning! Last week I ended up getting strep throat, and I thought I was over it, but turns out...yeah, not so much. I ended up landing myself a free hospital stay for two nights without my laptop. Sounds just fantastic, doesn't it? I ended up there and then once I got home, the new meds they threw at me had me sleeping about 14 hours a day and still waking up all sluggish and I couldn't really find the juice to power up and write anything. So I took a few days off from writing, but now I'm all better and spent all night writing a new chapter for you guys and I promise that I'm going to go back to posting a chapter a day now that my little fiasco is over. Thanks for waiting and I hope you enjoy! :D**

* * *

As I turn and go to get in Dale's RV for some snack foods, like a small bag of chips or something, I notice that everyone is gathering around the outside it, looking at what I assume is Amy and Andrea. Curious, I make my way up, standing between Dale and Daryl, and watch as Amy reawakens. I feel Daryl move beside of me, I look over and watch as he reaches for his handgun from his waistband, bringing it out and aiming for Amy. I grab his arm and gently pull it down, causing him to throw an angry glance my way. I slowly shake my head, giving him a silent "Not yet." and slightly bob my head to the left towards the two girls on the ground. We both turn our heads and watch as Andrea pulls out her own pistol and grasps Amy's head one last time,

"I'm sorry for not ever being there. I always thought there'd be more time. I'm here now, Amy. I'm here. I love you."

With that she quickly draws the gun up to the side of Amy's head and pulls the trigger, one shot ringing out as Amy dies for the second time in 24 hours. Andrea cries by her body for a second before finally standing after so many hours and making her way into the RV, shutting the door quietly behind her. I step forward, ready to go in and comfort her, but now it's my turn to be held back as Dale firmly grasps my shoulder and tugs me backwards,

"Let her alone for a bit Rose, she needs to be on her own for a few hours."

"But Dale…she…ok, ok, fine."

He gives me a sad smile and a small pat on the shoulder before walking away and over to Amy's body. I stare at the poor, dead girl for a few moments, saddened over the fact that she died under such horrible circumstances, but I shake off the feeling as quickly as I can. I've watched a lot of death since the zombie apocalypse decided to make man and womankind's lives a living, breathing hell, and if you dwell on it too long, it eats you alive, no pun intended. Once I'm done ridding myself of my grief over Amy, I realize that I can't go in the RV for food anymore and have to figure out where else I can find Jim something to eat. I give a quick look around and thankfully, someone left a few of our nonperishable food storage crates outside by the fire. I hurriedly walk over to them and rummage around for a few minutes until I find a couple of protein bars inside. Figuring that this is the best I can do for the moment, I shove them both into my pocket and stand. I spin around, ready to head back to the tent, when I run face first into something. I bounce backwards slightly and look up to find Daryl has planted himself right behind me. I let out a heavy sigh and look up at him,

"What?"

"Need ya' ta' help me drive the bodies up ta' the top of the hill."

"I'm taking care of Jim, ask someone else." I reply curtly before walking around him and attempting to once again return to the ill man on the other side of camp. Before I make it 2 steps though, Daryl grabs my hand, stopping me in my tracks. I pause and turn around, annoyed by his persistence to try and force me to stop caring for Jim,

"Daryl, knock it off."

"Help me move the bodies, yer the only one around who has got the muscle to git them geeks out of the truck and in ta' the graves."

"Excuse me?! That man is over there dying and he needs someone to take care of him, and since everybody except for Rick and I seems to want him dead, he doesn't have many people on his side. Rick has Lori and Carl to worry about already, so it isn't fair to add another person onto his list of people to take care. That means that the responsibility falls to me. So don't tell me I'm not doing shit just because I'm not helping your fucking ass carry dead bodies. Now kindly let me the fuck go."

"Not til ya' agree ta' help me."

"Daryl I swear to God I will shove my fist so far down your throat you'll feel my fingers tickling your stomach. So unless you want my hand messing with our intestines, I'm going to ask you as nicely as I can one more time, GET THE FUCK OFF."

He opens his mouth to retort when a small cough causes both of us to whip our heads to the side and find Carol patiently standing there, her hands clasped in front of her while she stares at the ground.

"Oh, Carol…sorry, we were just…talking. Need something?" I ask as politely as I can considering Redneck over there has gotten me all riled up.

"I was just...I overheard you two, and I thought I would offer to take care of Jim."

"Oh Carol that's very sweet but I don't want to have to pawn him off on you. Jim is my respo—"

"Rose, no…I just…I need something to keep my mind off of…of Ed. Please." She asks staring at me with this deep sadness. I stand there for a few seconds, trying to find an excuse, but I know I just can't say no to someone like this. I drop my shoulders in defeat and give a half smile,

"Alright Carol, you win."

She smiles and starts to walk away, headed towards Jim's tent. At once, Daryl drops my hand and gives me a smug smirk,

"Shut up. This wasn't for you Redneck, it was for her."

"Sure, whatever ya' say Lil' Miss."

I glare at him for a second when I remember the whole reason I ever even left Jim's side was to grab him some food.

"Shit, hold on." I tell Daryl as I pull the protein bars out of my pocket and turn to see that Carol is almost out of sight,

"Carol!"

She stops and turns around,

"Yes?"

"Here!" I shout, jogging over to her and placing the two bars in her hand, "Feed him these."

She nods and closes her hands around the bars before turning around and heading towards Jim once more without a word. I turn and run back to the spot where Daryl and I were standing, where he is impatiently tapping his foot as if I am an employee who is running late again. Once I reach him, he lets out a grunt that I think was supposed to sound like "Come on." as he strides his way to his truck, which is filled to the absolute brim with bodies. The smell makes my nose crinkle is disgust for a moment, but I am, unfortunately, growing use to the smell of large piles of putrid flesh, and I just shake my head and climb into the truck. Daryl starts her up and pretty soon we're headed down the hillside and to the quarry. The two of us get about half way there in complete silence, with Daryl concentrating on the road while I stare out the window at the passing scenery before he decides to start irritating me again,

"Can I ask ya' a question?"

"What."

"Why are ya' wastin' shit on Jim? He's a dead man either way."

"You don't know that, the C.D.C.—"

"If the government had found a way ta' cure everybody, don't ya' think they'd a started usin' it by now ta' treat all the walkers right about now?"

"Maybe they have and we just haven't heard about it."

"If they'd found something, trust me, we'd of heard about it by now. So answer my question."

"Fine, even if there isn't a cure, Jim is still, currently, a human. His blood is red and his heart is beating just like you or I, and because of that he deserves to be treated with kindness and care and love, even if his clock is running out. Plus, if he is going to die, then don't you think he deserves to die in the least amount of pain as possible?"

"Not at the risk of wastin' supplies we might need. If that was me, I'd ask ya' ta' kill me quick."

"And I'd tell you no, not if there was a chance of you surviving." I say, pulling my eyes off the landscape and staring at him. He gives a few sideways glances, his eyes jumping back and forth between the dirt road and me.

"Then I'd shoot myself."

"Then I'd handcuff you to something immovable and make sure you couldn't get your hands on any weapons."

He stays quiet for a minute or two before stopping the truck, putting it in park right in the middle of the road. He turns his whole body and looks at me, distrust coloring his eyes.

"Why?"

"Because."

"Mind givin' a better explanation?"

"Fine, I've got two reasons. For one thing, if there is a chance to help somebody, I take it. Whether it's family or complete stranger, I just get this weird…I don't know…urge to protect them from people or things that might try and hurt them more."

"Well ain't ya' just Mother Teresa…"

"Shut the hell up, just because I happen to give two shits about my fellow man does not give you the right to mock me."

"Would ya' calm down? Jesus, learn to take a joke…and what's two?"

And two…well Redneck, as crazy as it sounds, I consider you to be a friend. You get under my skin and make me want to kick some fucking sense into that narrow minded brain sometimes, but that's pretty much what friends make you want to do to them, right? Anyway, because you're my friend, you get the VIP treatment."

"Which means?"

"Which means that if that had been you down in that tent and not Jim, I would be driving your ass to the C.D.C right now, no question."

Daryl sits there and…analyzes me, I suppose; for a few long moments he looks at me with such concentration that I start to fidget, uncomfortable at being stared at for so long by someone. After a couple more minutes of being watched by this slack jawed num skull, I break the silence, fed up with his weird ass gawking,

"What the hell are you staring for?"

"Yer crazy."

"If I had a nickel for every time I heard that during my life, I'd be in my own personal military fort right now. Any particular reason you decided that now I'm cuckoo?"

"I ain't ever known somebody that did nice stuff fer nothin'…always a catch, so what's yers?"

"You see Daryl, there's this little bitty thing called loyalty. Basically it means that you are so devoted to someone, for whatever reason, that you will do almost anything for them. In our specific, fucked up friendship, I'm loyal to you because you have saved my ass a few times and never asked that I do anything in return, which makes me think that deep down, you're a good person despite the assholish exterior you put up for everyone. And because that loyalty exists, it means that if I can do anything to make sure your sorry redneck ass doesn't bite the dust, then I will."

Just as I would have expected, Daryl gives no sign of any kind of reaction, just looks for an instant longer before shifting back around to the steering wheel and starting back down the hill.

"Well, guess that moment is over…" I sigh, turning back towards the window.

Men, as I've learned through personal experience and my Psychology of Men class, because of the social norm of masculinity equaling stone cold detachment, rarely ever want to talk about ooey gooey emotions. They'd rather push it all way, way, WAY down deep into a black pit at the bottom of their stomachs and pretend that it doesn't exist. Now obviously this doesn't apply to every man, but I have a feeling, especially after meeting both Dixon brothers, that the classic idea of masculinity was almost certainly upheld in their home growing up, and showing anything other than that probably meant some sort of punishment. I mean, for God's sake, I haven't seen either Merle or Daryl show anything but indifference or anger at everyone or everything they meet. Hell, rocks have shown me more than these two. My mind must be wandering around the idea of men and women being so different in their approaches to emotion that I don't even notice that we've reached the quarry. Daryl does a three point turn and whips the truck in backwards before throwing it into park. The two of us climb out of the truck and walk over to the graves that Shane and Rick have been digging all day.

"I still think it's a mistake not burnin' these bodies. It's what we said we'd do, right? Burn 'em all, wasn't that the idea?" Daryl says, glaring down at the two men who are making their way out of the most recent graves they dug.

"At first." Shane grunts, jumping and pulling himself out of the earth before standing upright in front of the two of us.

"So what? The Chinaman gets all emotional, says it's not the thing ta' do, we jus' follow him along?"

"Daryl these were people, OUR people, and as fucking nuts as it sounds, there are individuals who are up in that camp that knew them and think they deserve to be laid to rest. So no, we're not doing it because Glenn got a little misty eyed on us, we're doing it because humans go through a grieving process and putting a body in a grave helps them find closure." I retort, sick of this emotionless robot shit he keeps throwing my way.

"That's the rules though." He answers, a slight hint of anger lacing itself into the statement as he scowls down at me. I glower right back, not intimidated by him or his answer. Before the two of us start going at it though, Rick steps in between, looking Daryl right in the eye,

"There are no rules."

"Exactly," I say, making my way over to the tailgate and lowering it, "We need time to bury the dead and to mourn, not because it's the most efficient or best plan we have, but because that's what people do. No stop whining and let's get these guys into the graves." I say, hopping up onto the truck bed and spinning around to look at the three men on the ground.

Shane and Rick nod, making their way over, but Daryl stays planted for a few seconds longer before finally complying and coming over to help me. The four of us break into teams of two, with Rick and Shane on one team and Daryl and I on the other, and we start filling in the makeshift cemetery as fast as we can. We leave one grave open, back row and right in the center for Amy, who I assume is being brought up later. Once all the graves are filled, Shane and Rick go back to shoveling, this time to refill all the occupied holes that now litter the quarry ground. Since there are only two shovels, Daryl and I are of no use, so the two of us decide to head back down to the camp to load Amy into the truck bed and bring everyone else down for the burial/funeral service. The ride down is deadly silent, and I'm kind of happy it is; I'm too emotionally and physically tired to really give a shit if Daryl thinks no one does nice things for no reason, I just want to get this service over with and go to bed for a few hours. We roll back into camp just in time to see Morales, Carol, and Dale carrying Jim across the camp center.

"What the living fuck?!" I ask.

Alarmed, I jump out of the truck and pull my handgun out of my waist band, dashing over to the three of them. I plant myself in their path, stopping them from moving Jim, who looks like he's in insurmountable pain, and aim my pistol at them, anger quickly spilling into my veins.

"What in the name of all that is holy do you three think you are going with Jim?" I ask, teeth clenched tight against each other. Carol and Morales appear to be speechless, both of their eyes locking onto the barrel of the gun, thus shutting down their mouth to brain connection, but Dale hardly skips a beat when answering me.

"Rose, now calm down. We're just moving him to the RV. There is a bed and air conditioning in there and he'll be more comfortable. So put that gun away before Carl or Sophia sees."

I look into all three of their eyes, trying to find any small spark of dishonesty, but I can't see anything besides fear. I lower my gun and stick it back into the waist band of my shorts,

"Sorry…I'm slightly overprotective if you can't tell." I say, stepping out of the way as they shuffle Jim the rest of the way to the RV. I follow them into the vehicle and anxiously watch from the doorway as they set Jim down onto the bed in the back. Once they've got him laid down, Dale and Morales quickly leave, offering Jim a smile before heading back out to finish whatever they were doing beforehand. Carol sits down gently on the bed, dabbing a wet washcloth that appeared out of nowhere across his forehead. Once she's finished I make my way into the tiny room and look down at him,

"You okay?"

"Besides the fact that I'm in agonizing pain from this walker bite and have a possible heat stroke, I'm just peachy." Jim answers, a sarcastic smile cracking across his lips. I roll my eyes as dramatically as I can while giving a small smile back,

"Ok, guess I deserved that answer for such a stupid question…Anyway, Carol, the rest of camp is headed to the funeral down by the quarry, you go and I'll stay here with Jim."

Carol nods and turns, making her way out of the RV. After a minute or so though, Jim starts speaking up, refusing to let me miss the service,

"No, you go too."

"Jim, you're sick and you can't just stay here on your ow—"

"You'll be gone, what, half an hour at the most? Go, I can be alone for that long."

"Jim…"

"Listen, I need some time…time alone. You go up, help people get through the mourning and then you can come back here and baby me the rest of the night if you want, okay?"

I look at him, not wanting to leave the dying man's side, but I shake my head and comply. I quickly gather a bottle of water, Carol's cold washcloth, a granola bar, one of my knives, and a dose of ibuprofen and put them all within arm's length of his sitting position,

"Here's food, water, extra medication, your washcloth, and a knife. Don't you dare try and do any stupid shit while I'm gone Jim, you hear me? I'll be back in exactly half an hour, ok?"

He nods,

"Now go."

I look everything over one last time before walking out of the RV and back over to Daryl's truck, where everyone has climbed into the cab and bed in order to ride down to the quarry. I bypass the fully truck bed and go right up to the cab, where I find Dale, Carl, and Daryl sitting,

"Scoot over, I'm coming in." I say, opening the door and waiting for Dale to move his ass over so I can squeeze in.

"Carol said ya' was staying with Jim." Daryl says, not moving an inch as Dale and Carl push up against him while I jam myself in and manage to close the door.

"Well Jim wanted some alone time, so here I am. Now go before my kidneys get permanent damage and fuse to my stomach from squishing myself in here so tight."

"Whatever ya' say, Lil' Miss." Daryl replies, putting the truck in drive and slowly making his way down to the quarry with the entire camp bouncing around in his truck.


End file.
